


Kingsman: Nikita

by TheGeekyLibrarian



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Gen, Older Man/Younger Woman, Romance, Rule 63, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, always-a-girl-Eggsy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGeekyLibrarian/pseuds/TheGeekyLibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy Unwin's life has been a series of disappointments for as long as she can remember, but it takes a turn for the worse when she finds herself in Holborn police station facing an eighteen month prison sentence. And really, that's saying a lot. As a last resort, she calls the number on the back of her father's medal of valor. That decision will change her life. </p><p>Basically a 'what if' version of the movie, featuring a female Eggsy Unwin and some new twists and turns. Written for an anon on the Kingsman kinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Manners Maketh Man

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt on Dressing Room 3 was:   
> "Can we have always-a-girl!Eggsy in Kingsman. Please?? I'd love for a lot of plot to remain the same. I still want Dean being abusive to Eggsy - grabbing her throat etc. Charlie and co are still arseholes who mock her and grope her - because apprantly all posh boys like sleeping with 'rough girls', Eggsy and Roxy become BFFs despite their backgrounds and Roxy gives Eggsy a *stunning* makeover for the Honeytrap mission. Seriously even Merlin is impressed. Merlin treats her as an equal which she appreciates. Harry...Harry makes her feel special for the first time ever. She's only had jerks like Dean hurting her or bastards like Charlie looking down on her as if she's cheap, but Harry, he might be old enough to be her dad but it doesn't stop her falling for him, when he kisses her hand, takes her to a beautiful restaurant 'just because' and was able to see beneath the layers of hostility, distrust and baggy clothes to see 'a lady with potential' - obviously no dying Harry please. How does Harry - and everyone's attitude to Eggsy alter as a girl? Het sex (between Harry & Eggsy) is also very welcome."
> 
> A/N:  
> Not sure if this is going to end up ticking all the boxes, but I'm just going to go with it and see where I end up.  
> This first chapter doesn't differ a lot from the corresponding section of the movie, but there'll be some twists as the story goes along, Eggsy being a woman will change things.  
> I'll probably also add more tags as more characters show up. This has not been beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Blinking against the sunlight she exits Holborn police station, focused on nothing but getting the hell away as soon as humanly possible. She knows that there's such a thing as getting lucky, there's dodging a bullet...and then there's whatever the hell just happened inside that interrogation room. And she's determined not to tempt fate any more than she already has.

"Eggsy! Would you like a lift home?"

The voice comes from behind her right shoulder, and she spins around to face whomever spoke. She sees a man, somewhere in his fifties she guesses, impeccably dressed, wearing sunglasses and carrying an umbrella. The umbrella in itself is enough to rouse her suspicions, because it's a sunny, practically cloudless day, of the sort that London rarely gets. The fact that he also looks like he stepped out of some kind of high-class fashion advertisement, only adds to her sense that something is off.

"Who are you?"

"The man who got you released."

She raises an eyebrow, thinking that this got interesting quickly. One one hand, she suspected a mysterious man in a tailormade suit was one of few things that could get an eighteen month sentence reduced to a few hours in a holding cell and an hour and a half worth of interrogation. But she also knew bureaucratic magic like that usually came with a price people like her couldn't afford to pay, and her luck had already run out. To say that she was skeptical of this man, would be an understatement.  

"That ain't an answer."

"A little gratitude would be nice..."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, now eyeing him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"My name is Harry Hart, and I gave you that medal. Your father saved my life."

He doesn't have to specify which medal, she only owns one, and strictly speaking it's not even hers. As far as she knows, as far as she _remembers_ it was given to her father post-mortem, in acknowledgement of his bravery and services to Queen and country. Her mother always hated it, but Eggsy's always felt attached to it, and she’s worn it as a necklace for years, ever since she was old enough to trust herself not to lose it.

She studies the man in front of her, stretching her memory as far back as she can to see if she remembers him, but there's not much left of her memories from that time, except an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Sorrow and grief, the way a toddler experiences them. But then, right at the edge of the memories she knows for certain are her own, there’s something… She remembers her snowglobe in unfamiliar hands, a kind voice asking her name, and telling her to take care of it, of the medal, and to take care of her mum. But she can’t be sure if it’s the same voice, or even the same man.

"You knew my dad?"

The question is out before she can stop it, and she thinks to herself that if this was a trap she's sprung it effortlessly. But the man in front of her betrays no smugness at having caught her, in fact there’s very little emotion in his voice at all when he replies:

“I did. I like to think I knew him quite well.”

There’s silence for a few moments, both of them seemingly studying the other. What he’s looking for in her, she has no idea. For her part, she’s trying to figure out how someone like her father could have known someone like Harry Hart.

“So…How’d you know him? Were you in the Marines?”

“Eggsy, this is neither the time nor the place for this conversation.”

“Riight…I suppose that's why you hang out outside Holborn knick, waiting for a small-time delinquent...To not have this conversation?”

When he didn't respond, she spreads her arms wide, giving a sort of half shrug, and turns to walk away.

 

Harry Hart watched her continue down the steps, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Well... The girl certainly had attitude. In the first few moments of seeing her, he'd found it difficult to reconcile the image of the three-year-old girl who had been nothing but sweetness, the apple of her father's eye, with the twenty-two-year-old young woman standing before him. But then, life had a way of hardening you to its realities.

Underneath the hooded sweatshirt and baggy jeans, he could just about make out the body of an athlete, and his mind echoed with the reports he'd read in preparation. Excellent gymnastic skills, pegged for Olympic competition, high scores on both the mental and physical aptitude tests in the Marines...

It was already clear to him that she resembled her father greatly, and he wondered briefly how a young woman with so much potential could be stuck in such a dead-end existence as drugs and petty crime, without coming up with an answer.

"Have a drink with me, and I'll tell you... more."

He could not tell her everything, even if he had wanted to, but, he thought to himself, she deserved to know as much as he could tell her. Lee Unwin had been dead for nineteen years, and perhaps he had neglected his responsibilities towards the family.

He watched her freeze in mid-step, stand absolutely still for a couple of seconds, then gracefully turn 180 degrees in a move that looks like something a ballet dancer might perform. The difference between the grace in her movements and the roughness of her appearance is jarring, and he must have looked shocked for a split second, because a cheeky grin spreads across her face as she watches him to gauge his reaction.

“I know a place.” She says, matter-of-factly, as if this was all her idea.

 

The further away from the station they get, the more relaxed she becomes, and by the time they enter the pub she’s stopped looking over her shoulder. He walks beside her, making polite, if stilted conversation, telling her the usual cover story. But really he's studying her more in depth, trying to get a sense of who she is. He watches in silence as she greets a couple of the regulars and as she jokingly flirts with the barman while getting their drinks. But when she returns to the table, he sees her become uncertain, hesitant, and he’s reminded that no matter how coy and arrogant she may seem, the girl is barely past twenty.

The two of them look at each other in silence for a long moment.

“So before you were a tailor, were you in the army? Like an officer?"

“Not quite.”

"So where were you posted, Iraq or something?"

“Sorry, Eggsy. Classified.”

There's a pause, and he watches her as she casts her eyes down, torn between disappointment and continued curiosity. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that she is very much used to the former, but so far it doesn’t seem to have dampened the latter.

“But my dad saved your life, yeah?"

There is something so hopeful and respectful in the way she mentions her father that it almost breaks his heart. And had he not had already had a story to tell, he thinks to himself that he might have made one up, to make her happy. For now he tells her the truth, in the simplest way he can.

"The day your father died, I missed something. Had it not been for his courage, my mistake would have cost the lives of every man present. Your father was a brave man. A good man."

He pauses, watching as her cautious smile turns into a grin at hearing her father spoken of as a hero.

“Having read your files, I think he’d be bitterly disappointed in the choices you’ve made.”

The words hit home with unexpected force, and by the way she looks at him, he might as well have slapped her across the face. Her face falls, the smile vanishes instantly, her eyes narrow, her shoulders draw back into a hard line, and she crosses her arms in front of her. She's no longer leaning towards him, eager, clinging to his every word, but sits as far back against her seat as she can.

"You can't talk to me like that!"

“Huge IQ. Great performance in primary school, then it all went tits up. Drugs, petty crime, never had a job…”

"Think there's a lot of jobs going 'round here, do ya?"

"Doesn't explain why you gave up your hobbies. First prize regional under tens gymnastics two years in a row. Your coach had you pegged as olymic team material."

"Yeah well, when you grow up around someone like my stepdad you pick up new hobbies pretty quickly."

"Always someone else's fault... Who's to blame for you quitting the marine? You were halfway through training, doing brilliantly, but you gave up."

"Because my mum went mental! Banging on about losing me as well as my dad! Didn't want me being cannon fodder for snobs like you, judging people like me from your ivory towers, with no thought about why we do what we do. We ain't got much choice... you get me? And if we were born with the same silver spoon up our asses, we'd do just as well as you...if not better."

Harry fought to suppress a smile. _That_ was the kind of spirit he wanted to see. After his meeting with Arthur, he had wondered who he might put forward as a candidate for the vacancy at Kingsman, and then when he had gotten word that Lee Unwin's daughter called to claim the favour he'd once offered, in order to get out of jail, the thought had occurred to him that perhaps there was some meaning to it all. He needed to know more about this girl, and what he had learned so far was...promising. She would need to put in a lot of work to fit in, but he was beginning to see her as capable, if he could just get her to commit.

He was about to answer when a stranger's voice interrupted him.

"The fuck are you doin' 'ere?!? Are you takin' the fuckin' piss?!?"

He sees Eggsy jump and turn immediately towards the newcomers. He turns as well, and sees a group of men, most of them about Eggsy's age or a little older, enter the pub. The leader, a tall, lanky man with greasy hair and a face scarred by acne, wastes no time in approaching them.

"More bright, young men who simply need a silver suppository?" He asks, his attention turned back to Eggsy. These men are not threats, however much they pretend to be.

"Nah, these are exceptions." She replies, some of the cockiness returning to her voice, and Harry realises that these must be some of her stepfather's goons.

"Let's go."

She begins to edge carefully out of her seat, and although he commands her for having enough sense not to seek out any more trouble, he's not quite finished with her.

"Nonsense. We haven't finished our drinks."

Visibly perplexed, Eggsy remains in her seat, while the gang stops directly in front of their table.

"After you nicked his car, Dean says you're fair game. Doesn't give a shit what your mum says."

Eggsy fixes the goon nearest her with a stare, and from across the table Harry can formerly see how she mentally puts her armor on, readying herself for the fight she knows will come. And that's when he decides. That this fight, this one, insignificant fight, he'll fight for her.

"Listen, boys... I've had a rather emotional day, so whatever your beef with Eggsy is, and I'm sure it's well founded, I would appreciate it enormously if you could just leave us in peace until I've finished this lovely pint of Guiness."

"You should get outta the way, grandad, or you'll get hurt 'n all." The tall one threatens him immediately.

"He ain't joking, you should go." Eggsy warns him in a near-whisper, and to be honest, he finds her display of worry rather endearing.

 So, he stands, umbrella in hand, and makes his way through the gang, uttering several soft-spoken 'excuse me's until he passes them all. He's intrigued to see how far he can go, how many steps he can take, before they give him an excuse to give them all a proper beating. He makes it almost to the door.

"If you're lookin' for another streetwalker, they're down on the corner of Smith street."

Harry stopped abruptly, and the effect was even better than he had planned. The whole pub went eerily silent, every person there somehow sensing that a line had been crossed, a line everyone had been unaware even existed up until that point.

He savoured the moment, then reached out for the first bolt on the door. He could do without disturbances. In the mirror conveniently located to one side, he could see the goons advancing, obviously hesitant and uncertain about what's happening, but trying their best to look menacing all the same.

"Manners."

One bolt slammed into place.

"Maketh."

There is an audible clink as the second bolt also falls into place.

"Man."

And the third.

"Do you know what that means?"

Harry takes another glance at the mirror and sees that the goons have all massed together in the centre of the room, and, for lack of a better word, they look positively dumbfounded.

"Then let me teach you a lesson."

With an ease and a speed that, quite frankly, no one of the people present expects, he hooks the handle of his umbrella into the handle of a nearby beer jug and sends the jug flying with terrifying precision. It hits the ringleader on the forehead, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

As he turns around and begins to walk calmly towards them, he catches a glimpse of Eggsy's face. Her mouth has fallen open, and her eyes are wide with shock.

"Well, are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going to fight?"

There is another moment's hesitation, before the men decide they've had it with his mockery. He leans back to dodge the first blow, and it misses him entirely, instead conveniently knocking out a goon on his opposite side.

One comes at him directly from the front, and one swift kick is enough to knock him down. The next one has a bit more fighting experience, enough to block some of his moves, but he's careless, unrefined, his swings too wide, and Harry has no difficulty finding an opening to hit him directly in the face with the handle of his umbrella, two more hits following in quick succession before his opponent falls to the floor.

Two more come at him almost simultaneously, one from his right, one from his left. He quickly gave the one on the right a firm jab in the chest with the handle of the umbrella, before turning his attention to the man on his left. This one too receives an umbrella to the face, leaving him dazed, and leaving Harry free to use him as a shield for an oncoming attack, while dealing a punishing blow to the man now in front of him. A kick, and the human shield, having outplayed his role, is sent crashing to the floor, as Harry ducks to avoid a fist being swung at him.

He finds himself having to duck a second time, as one of the thugs come at him from behind. As he grabs a hold of his assailant, umbrella poised to strike, he gets a glimpse of Eggsy, still in her seat, watching the spectacle before her, still with her eyes wide and her mouth open in a mixture of shock and awe.

He thrusts the umbrella forward, using it to catch his attacker in an arm lock, and then, noticing another thug coming at him, twists so that he's able to use it to push the second attacker away, towards the bar. This, of course, leads to attacker #2 coming at him a second time, this time brandishing a bottle, but now he's prepared, and the thug soon finds himself strapped to the bar by an electrified chain.

He finishes off the man he's held firmly trapped by the umbrella, and forces two others into colliding with each other by hooking the handle of his umbrella around the neck of one of them.

The man wielding a knife comes at him a second time, only to find himself victim of the same technique, when Harry uses the umbrella handle to send him flying and crashing against the bar.  

Harry turns towards the last gang member standing. The ringleader, the tall one with a mouth on him, has recovered from a beer jug to the head, and it turns out, he's the only one of the goons to carry a firearm, which he now pulls out from the waistband of his jeans. In one fluid motion, Harry opens his umbrella, shielding himself behind it, waiting and watching while the idiot in front of him spends his five rounds. When both the shots and the curse words that have accompanied them cease, he fires a stun round from the umbrella, and watches as his opponent does a backwards somersault before hitting the floor, unconscious once again.

Standing, and closing his umbrella, he is looking directly into the awestruck eyes of Eggsy Unwin. He's about to make his apologies, when, almost as an afterthought, it occurs to him that it would probably be best if the barman didn't remember this at all. The amnesia dart hits its mark with impeccable precision, and Eggsy's eyes flicker towards the thud as the barman slides to the floor. Slowly, her eyes travel back to Harry, who, with a hint of a smile playing around his lips, transfers his umbrella from one hand to the other in a mock salute, before settling back down in his seat opposite her.

Eggsy doesn't say a word, but her eyes are wide with fright, and subconsciously she's put as much distance between them as she possibly can. Harry realises that if she thought she could escape, she would probably have run, and the realisation stings. He wonders for a moment if he went too far. 

He drains his glass with a sigh, leaning back in his seat, looking across the table at the girl opposite. 

“Sorry about that… Needed to let off a little steam. Heard yesterday a friend of mine died.”

Then, as an afterthought;

"He knew your father too, actually."

For a beat there is silence, and the two of them sit there, trying to make sense of each other. But then, Harry breaks eye contact, and stands.

"Now, Eggsy, I do apologise. I shouldn't have done this in front of you."

He picks up his umbrella, and looks at the watch on his wrist as if to check the time, subtly turning the dial to "amnesia" once again, but Eggsy takes one look at him and knows.

"No! Please, I won't say nothin', I swear! If it's one thing I can do, it's keep my mouth shut."

Her voice is both pleading and proud at once. She's begging him to be allowed to remember, yes, but she's also clearly proud of the fact that she knows she can keep quiet.

"You won't tell a soul?"

His voice is threatening, but in his mind Harry sees Lee Unwin all over again. _Loyal to a fault,_ even to someone she does not know and has barely met.

"Ask the feds, I've never grassed anyone up."

He sees it now, clear as day, the pride and the defiance that has already gotten her in so much trouble, but somehow, in her, both turn into admirable qualities. He realises that, jaded and experienced as he is, he is still more than willing to believe her.

"Is that a promise?"

"On my life!"

There is a confidence in her voice as she speaks the words, telling him that when Eggsy Unwin makes a promise, she will keep it.

It can be her first test, he concludes. If she keeps her mouth shut when threatened with her stepfather's ire, he'll make her the offer.

"Much appreciated, Eggsy." He lets his voice flow back to its normal register, and watches as she relaxes, though only slightly.

"You're right about the snobs. But there too, there are exceptions..."

He places a hand on her shoulder, kindly, though she tenses immediately at the touch.

"Best of luck with everything."

 

She doesn't know how long she sits there, rooted to the spot, staring after the man who'd been a friend of her father's, but it's long enough that she hears the first groans and curse words uttered by Dean's crew as they begin to regain consciousness. Realising that she probably shouldn't stick around until they're clear-headed enough to question her, she runs.

There's freedom in running, in not having to look back. To hear the sounds of the city fade, and instead move to the beat of your own heart. Paths you wouldn't notice on street level opening up everywhere, and after a while you fly between them, forgetting everything except how to get from one place to the next.

Sometimes she'd run alone, sometimes her friends would join her. Today, she was grateful not to meet anyone she knew, she needed the time to think. She takes the long way home, already knowing that when she gets there, there will be hell to pay.

She barely gets through the door before Dean is on her. Her mum reacts first, as always, jumping from the sofa when she sees her, begging her to just go, because he's in a foul mood. That's as much as she gets out before Dean tells her to shut up, hands out a vicious blow, then tells her again, adding a 'fuck' for good measure.

Eggsy reaches out towards her mother, wanting to reassure her that it's fine, it's all fine, just don't piss him off further, mum, please. But then Dean's hand closes around her throat, and she pulls her hand back on reflex in a futile attempt to get him to let go.

His grip only tightens, and she knows it's only moments now before her feet kicks at thin air.

"Who was with you in that fuckin' pub?!? I wanna know the name of the geezer you was with!"

She feels a burning urge to tell Dean to go fuck himself with a cactus, but his grip around her throat is so tight she can barely breathe, and she's been through this before. As evident by her current position, Dean doesn't take lightly to insults to either himself or his crew.

"I wasn't with no one!"

If you were smart, a tiny voice inside her head chimes in, you'd just give him the name. What was it again? Harry Hart? What kind of name is that anyway, and more importantly, what's he to you? After all, you've barely met him... Is he really worth the thrashing you're going to get by continuing to lie for him?

The answer was yes, of course. Because she'd promised him she could keep quiet. She'd sworn on her life not to mention what happened in that pub to a living soul. Harry Hart had stood up for her, the first person in twenty years to do so. But more importantly, he'd mentioned Lee Unwin by name, and not as a ghost or a curse, but as a friend. Someone who had once existed in the world... And somehow that was far more important.

Eggsy decides that, although Harry may have been right that her father would have been bitterly disappointed in her choices, she's not going to disappoint him now. Her track record for keeping her mouth shut is stellar, after all... It would be a crying shame to tarnish that for Dean.

Another slap brings her forcefully back to the present, Dean still inches away from her, screaming.

"Who was it?!?"

"I don't know what you're on about!”

A second slap, and the question is repeated. But Eggsy still stands her ground.

“I don’t know what you’re fuckin’ on about!”

“Fuckin’ tell me his name!”

“I don’t know who you’re fuckin’ on about!” Eggsy insists, for what feels like the hundredth time, and despite how much her neck hurts and how much her face hurts, she still feels a hint of annoyance when she hears her own voice break. But she’s not stupid, she knows she needs a way out, fast, or Dean’s going to put her in the hospital again.

 

 In a far more respectable part of London, Harry Hart sat in his office, listening to the drama unfold. The image on the computer screen in front of him was split in two, one half showed Eggsy’s military records, which were nothing short of exemplary, and the second showed the feed from the tracking device which he had surreptitiously planted on Eggsy before bidding her farewell earlier that day.

 

"I wanna know who you was with in that pub, do you understand? I wanna know his fuckin' name, or I swear...I'll rip your head off!"

"I don't know what you're fuckin' on about!"

It's become almost like a mantra now, something she repeats without thinking. But Dean is growing more determined by the minute, and realising that he's not getting anywhere with mere threats, he grabs a meat cleaver from the kitchen counter, holding it to Eggsy’s throat.

She can see her mum from our of the corner of her eye, about to try and get between her and Dean one more time, but Dean only has to point the tip of the cleaver in her direction and utter another 'fuck off' for her to shrink away in terror. Eggsy has seen it before, hundreds, thousands of times over the years, and it still feels like a little piece of her soul is chipped away every time.

"I could kill you right now, and no one in the world will notice!"

Dean's back in her face, screaming, and Eggsy can feel her resolve draining away.

_Just tell him... Just tell him and get it over with. He's not wrong, no one's going to miss you... You know that._

"But I would... "

A stranger's voice suddenly echoes through the room. Strange, until Eggsy realises she's heard it before, and not only that - she's heard it earlier that very day. It's the voice of Harry Hart, loud and clear as if he was standing there next to her.

"I have enough evidence on your activities to have you locked up for the rest of your life, Mr. Dean Anthony Baker, so I suggest you leave the girl alone, or I shall be forced to deliver it to the appropriate authorities."

The effect is instantaneous, and if she wasn't struggling to get her breath back, or trying to get her reeling mind to accept the fact that she was not about to die in the next couple of minutes, Eggsy would probably have laughed out loud at the look on Dean's face. She'd never even imagined it was possible for a disembodied voice to scare the shit out of her stepdad to such an extent.

Harry's voice sounds again, and this time his attention is on her.

"Eggsy, meet me at the tailor's shop I told you about."

He doesn't have to ask her twice. Thankful for the chance to get away, she runs out the door before Dean has the chance to recover from the shock.

Outside, she runs straight into the core of her stepfather's crew, but now, when they don't have an opportunity to corner her, she easily escapes. She knows these buildings by heart, and could probably freerun through them in her sleep, if she had to.

 

Night has fallen by the time she reaches the tailor's shop on Savile Row, and the street is quiet. Despite there being no one there to scold her, she feels hopelessly out of place, a feeling set deep in her bones that this is not a place someone like her belongs, or is even allowed. She walks past windows displaying various expensive clothes, some of the items costing more money than she will likely see in her lifetime, feeling more and more despondent as she goes.

She stops outside the shop Harry had mentioned he worked at... Kingsman. A posh name for an equally posh place. For a moment she hesitates, lingering in front of the window display, and she can formerly feel her confidence evaporating.

The lights are on inside, and the door slides open almost without her having to put any weight on it. She finds herself in a small hallway, and through the glass door to her left, she sees Harry Hart waiting for her. He’s seated, one leg draped carefully over the other, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He’s also watching her like a hawk.

Tentatively, she reaches for the handle of the second glass door, hearing the soft chime of a bell as she pulls it open and enters. Her eyes travel around the room, taking in the elegant woodwork, the crystal, plush velvet drapes and expensive carpets. Then, as her eyes come back to rest on Harry, she says:

“I’ve never met a tailor before. But I know you ain’t one.”

She hadn’t intended the words to come out as a challenge, and for a split second she’s terrified that she’s going to be subjected to the same type of beating he handed out to her stepfather’s goons earlier. But when their eyes meet, the way he looks at her seems almost appraising, and there is a glimmer of something in his eyes that she can’t quite place.

He drains his glass, and stands.

“Come with me.”

He leads her through the shop, to a room in the back. When he enters, leaving the door open for her to follow, she sees that it’s a fitting room, dominated by a large, three-part mirror. She lingers in the doorway, unsure of what he wants with her, and wonders if she made a mistake in trusting him. Judging by the complete silence in the building, the two of them are very much alone, and she, in turn, is very much at his mercy.

“Come on in.”

His voice sounds encouraging, and she pushes her doubts aside. He stood up for her in the pub, he stopped Dean from killing her, he wouldn’t do those things just to turn around and hurt her himself, surely?

Cautiously, she steps towards the mirror, until she’s standing directly in front of it, with Harry off to the left, behind her.

“What do you see?”

A sigh escapes her lips. She’s not even sure what game they’re playing, she just knows she’s tired of it.

“Someone who wants to know what the fuck is going on…”

Her attitude doesn’t seem to faze him at all.

“I see a young woman with potential. A young woman who is loyal. Who can do as she is asked, and who wants to do something good with her life. Did you see the film ‘Trading Places’?”

She shrugs in response, muttering a ‘no’.

“How about ‘Nikitia’?”

Eggsy shakes her head.

“ ‘Pretty Woman’?”

She shrugs another ‘no’.

“Alright. My point is that your lack of a silver spoon has set you on a certain path, but you needn’t stay on it. If you’re prepared to adapt and learn, you can transform.”

Suddenly, she remembers something, and the thought is enough to make her grin.

“Oh… like in ‘My Fair Lady’?”   

She looks at Harry in the mirror, and sees a flash of something very much like amusement in his eyes.

“Well, you’re full of surprises. Yes, like in ‘My Fair Lady’. And in this case, I’m offering you the opportunity to become a Kingsman.”

“A tailor?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“A Kingsman agent.”

Now it’s her turn to display an amused smile. He can’t be serious.

“Like a spy?”

“Of sorts.”

His voice is level, not a trace of humor, and it occurs to her that pretending to be a spy is not the sort of joke Harry Hart would make. So, what if he’s not pretending?

“Interested?”

Eggsy shrugged. Whatever this turned out to be, it had to be better than continuing to live under the same roof as Dean.

“You think I’ve got anything to lose?”

Harry doesn’t smile, but there’s something in his eyes as he reaches past her to touch the mirror that reveals he’s very pleased nonetheless. It takes her a moment to realise that the floor beneath them is moving, and they with it. They’re moving downwards into some kind of shaft, and she watches, fascinated, as the fitting room disappears from view and is replaced by walls of red brick.

“Since 1849, Kingsman Tailors have clothed the world's most powerful individuals. In 1919, a great number of them had lost their heirs to World War I.” Harry begins, as the move deeper into wherever it is that they’re going.

“That meant a lot of money going uninherited. And a lot of powerful men with the desire to preserve peace and protect life. Our founders realized that they could channel that wealth and influence for the greater good. And so began our other venture... An independent international intelligence agency operating at the highest level of discretion. Without the politics and bureaucracy that undermine the intelligence of government-run spy organisations. A suit is the modern gentleman's armour. And the Kingsman agents are the new knights.”

Eggsy’s only half listening, still more fascinated by the mechanics of the elevator she’s suddenly found herself on, not to mention surprised that something like this could exist beneath central London.

“How deep does this fuckin’ thing go?”

“Deep enough.” Harry chides her, but he sounds like he's enjoying himself.

 

They emerge in a concrete chamber, and Eggsy’s attention is immediately drawn to a pod that has a vague resemblance to an underground train car. Turns out, her imagination actually isn’t all wrong. The door glides open, revealing four seats inside, and Harry gets in and sits on the left. Feeling more apprehensive by the minute about what she’s agreed to, she mimics him, taking the seat opposite.

It’s difficult to judge how fast they’re going, and how far, because the entire journey takes place underground, and aside from a few emergency lights here and there, all Eggsy can make out through the windows is darkness. When the pod pulls to a stop, the door opens to reveal a room much like the one they left behind.

“Shit, we’re late.”

She quickly follows as he stands and exits, not sure whether or not to laugh at his remark. There’s something about the deadpan delivery and her disbelief that Harry Hart could ever be late for anything that makes her want to, but she has a feeling he’s not actually joking, so she keeps her mouth shut and walks, two steps behind him.

The building they’re in, whatever and wherever it is, reminds her of an army base, with its plain concrete and steel. As she follows Harry out of an elevator and onto a walkway, she sees the largest hangar she’s ever laid eyes on through a glass wall, and she doesn’t even notice that she’s stopped in her tracks to take it all in, or that she’s grinning from ear to ear, until she hears Harry’s voice behind her.

“Your father had that same look on his face.”

He hesitates for a moment, then admits:

“As did I.”

Eggsy lingers for a few moments longer, until Harry calls an impatient but not unkind

“Come on!” from somewhere behind her.

She runs a few steps to catch up with him, and follows him through more winding hallways without a word. As they round a corner, she almost walks straight into a man blocking the way in front of her. Tall, broad-shouldered and bald with half-rimmed glasses, he does not look like the kind of man you’d want to cross, but he seems pleased to see them, or rather, he seems pleased to see Harry.

“Galahad.” The stranger greets them.

"My codename." Harry explains.  

“Late again, Sir.”

Eggsy turns her head towards Harry, looking for an explanation, and sees him shoot the other man a glare. She resist the urge to snicker, and is quickly brought back to the seriousness of her own situation when Harry places a hand on her shoulder and wishes her good luck, while the other man gestures to a door behind her, saying:

“In you go.”

Hesitantly, she turns, one last look at Harry, who’s expression she can’t read, and slips through the door.  

 


	2. Submergence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm actually kind of stunned at the amount of awesome feedback I've been getting...? I mean, I didn't really imagine anyone taking an interest in this AU, since, while this fandom is super into Hartwin, I didn't think so many would be into this kind of slow-burn, plot-heavy, always-a-girl!Eggsy Hartwin, if that makes sense... *sigh* What I'm trying to say is: I really, really appreciate all your kudos and your bookmarks and your kind comments, you're all fantastic, and it's a joy writing for you.
> 
> (also: I've been wanting to experiment with embedding images and other fun stuff, so I made a poster. It's got tons of flaws (the struggle with finding the right hq images is real, just saying), but right now I'm still pretty happy with it.  
> The fancast for Eggsy is Hannah Arterton)

 

 

 

The room, much like the rest of the facility, reminded her of her time in the marines, however brief it had been. The walls were concrete, the fixtures brushed steel, and the floor was some kind of tile she’d never seen before. Beds had been placed along two walls, four on each side of the room, and they looked about as comfortable as every other recruit bunk she had experienced in her life. It just went further towards confirming what she'd already suspected; that she wasn't there to be made comfortable.

A group of people, consisting of five men and two women, had formed in the middle of the room, all of its members now turning to look at her. The lot of them could have had the words 'public school' stamped across their foreheads, and it couldn't have been more obvious that these people, whoever they were, had been carefully selected from the upper echelons of society.

She saw how their eyes moved towards her, the newcomer, and a feeling of dread gripped her like a claw. She also felt the urge to turn and run, because she did _not_ belong here with these people. In a split second she was suddenly very conscious of how she must appear to them, baggy clothes, hair a mess... She was convinced they saw every rip and mend in her clothes, even though she knew that couldn't possibly be the case.

 

* * *

 

 

In an adjacent room, hidden behind a two-way mirror, Harry Hart stood alongside a few of his fellow kingsmen, watching the candidates. There was no need for him to be there, nothing he could do to change the outcome of the upcoming test, but, like the others, he was curious to see the recruits. Aside from Eggsy, he observed that they were pretty much what he had expected, although Percival's candidate, another girl about Eggsy's age, seemed promising.

"My god, Arthur's going to have a coronary..." He heard Gareth, one of his fellow agents, remark while watching the standoff between Eggsy and the other recruits.

Gareth sounded amused at the prospect, but Harry couldn't share the humour. Arthur's insistence on following the old ways of Kingsman in all aspects had long been frustrating, but lately he'd begun to worry that their leader's preoccupation with tradition would end up impeding their ability to do the work the organisation had been established for. They needed new blood, and that didn't mean just new members exactly like the old ones, only younger. But, as evident by the candidates in front of him, Kingsman followed Arthur's lead, and although Harry tried his best to stand against the current he could only do so much. He knew that the odds were already stacked against Eggsy, that it would no doubt have been easier for him to go back to his old haunts at Oxford and find a candidate there... But once again he'd elected to put his faith in the underdog, still with the faint hope that one of these days, one of them would succeed, and Kingsman would see what resources they had been ignoring all these years. He thought of Lee... and that if his daughter had the same talent, and just a bit more luck, he could soon see her sit opposite him at the Kingsman table.

"Yours?" Percival asked with a slight nod towards the glass, having come up behind him.

Harry gave a barely visible nod in acknowledgement.

"They'll rip her to shreds." Percival concluded matter-of-factly, watching Eggsy's body language as she faced the group on the other side. He sounded neither pleased nor sorry about the fact, though Harry thought he could pick up a hint of worry in the other man's voice. He surmised that Percival's candidate must be the other young woman, who would doubtlessly fall to the bottom of the hierarchy if Eggsy should disappear.

"She can take it."  Harry replied calmly, thankful that his voice didn't betray the doubt he couldn't help but feel, deep down.

 

 

* * *

 

Footsteps behind her alerted them all to another new presence, and Eggsy turned to see the man from the hallway behind her.

"Fall in."

At least that was a command she understood, she thought, while she found her place at the edge of the group as they all turned to face him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Merlin. You are about to embark on what is probably the most dangerous job interview in the world. One of you, and _only_ one of you, will become the next Lancelot."

He paused for effect, and surveyed them. Eggsy stole a glance at the others from out of the corner of her eye, and they all seemed to watch Merlin with a sort of reverence, as if what he had just said was something they had waited their whole lives to hear.

"Can anybody tell me what this is?" Merlin continued, holding up something made of green plastic.

Immediately, everyone's hands, except hers, shot into the air, and Merlin didn't waste any time in pointing to a man three steps to her right.

"Yes?"

"Body bag, sir."

"Correct. Charlie, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. In a moment you will each collect a body bad. You will your name on that bag. You will write the details of your next of kin on that bag. This represents your acknowledgement of the risks that you're about to face, as well as your agreement to strict confidentiality. Which, incidentally, if you break, will result in you, and your next of kin, being in that bag. Is that understood?"

Eggsy momentarily forgot that she was supposed to be looking straight head, and turned towards her fellow recruits to see their reactions, only to be met with blank expressions.

"Excellent. Fall out."

Merlin left them, and group dissolved, each of them finding their bunks. Eggsy ended up second from the door on the right hand side, next to one of the other girls. She was staring apprehensively at the green body bag, wondering whether her father had stood where she stood, preparing himself to write down whom to contact in the event of his death. Had he written 'Michelle Unwin' in that broad, slanted handwriting she'd only seen and known was his years and years later? Had he thought of _her_ as he did?

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost didn't answer when the girl in the bed on her right turned, hand already outstretched, and introduced herself.

"Roxanne. But, call me Roxy."

Offering her own hand, Eggsy replied.

"I'm Eggsy."

"Eggy? Did-... did your mother name you that?"

She was taken aback for a moment by the question, raising an eyebrow at Roxy, who in turn looked horrified because she'd actually asked it out loud. Eggsy knew that it was no more than many others wondered when hearing her nickname, and Roxy had sounded genuinely curious, as opposed to condescending, so in the end she smiled, and corrected her, saying:

"Eggsy. Nah, my mum named me Geraldine."    

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

Roxy smiled then too, long and unwieldy given names was something she could sympathise with. Before they could continue their conversation, a voice from behind interrupted them.

"Eggy?"

When she turned, Eggsy recognised the speaker as the one who had been selected to answer earlier. Charlie.

Charlie was good looking, tall, lean but broad-shouldered, dark eyes, strong jawline and high cheekbones. On top of that he had tousled brown hair that looked like it just barely held the shape he'd no doubt meticulously combed it into. She had no doubt he could be the consummate charmer when he wanted to, but now the only emotion audible in his voice was  distain.

"Where'd they dig you up?"

Before she could respond, she heard Roxy's voice, exasperated;

"You know we're not allowed to discuss who proposed us."

A blond man, belonging in the bunk at Charlie's right, also jumped into the conversation.

"There's no need to bite his head off, Charlie's only making conversation. Right, Charlie?"

With a nod to Charlie, the blond one offered his hand to her.

"I'm Digby."

"Digby." She repeated, thinking to herself that at least this one had no business mocking her nickname. She knew that wouldn't stop him, though.

Digby gestured to a third man, this one resembled Charlie, but his features were cute and boyish more than handsome.

"Eggy, this is Rufus. Rufus, Eggy."

The two of them shook hands.

"So, Eggy, are you Oxford or Cambridge?"

Charlie spoke again. She wasn't sure what he was up to, but she knew he wasn't actually trying to be nice.

She shrugged in response.

"Neither."

"St. Andrews?"

Now it was Digby's turn to ask.

"Durham?" Rufus chimed in, before stopping as if to think, before adding:

"No, wait, I think we may have met... Did you serve me  at the McDonald's in Winchester service station?"

Eggsy shrugged. She knew this was the moment they'd been waiting for, the moment when they'd get to see her display some kind of violent reaction to their taunts. But she's heard worse, all her life she's heard worse.

"Nah."

"Definitely St. Andrew's." Is Charlie's conclusion, but her response not being what they expected, it doesn't sound as condescending as he'd no doubt meant it.

They lose interest in her after that, at least for the time being, and all of them head back to their bunks to unpack. Eggsy stands in front of hers, looking at the body bag still waiting for her name and that of her next of kin, neatly folded on top of a pile also consisting of a towel and bed sheets. She doesn't have any luggage to unpack, and at the moment she doesn't know whether that's good or bad. Did Harry offer her this, knowing she would somehow be provided for, or had he made the offer already suspecting she wouldn't get very far. After all, he'd seen all her records... perhaps he thought they spoke for themselves.

"Just ignore them." Roxy said, obviously mistaking her silence for concern about Charlie and his little posse. She was sitting on her bunk, and was just finishing writing her details on the white index card that went with the body bag. The second girl, Eggsy had noticed her upon entering but hadn't paid much attention to her after, came up to them.

"Need a pen?"

She held one out to Eggsy, who took it.

"Cheers."

"Amelia, isn't it?" Roxy asked, and Amelia nodded.

"Amelia, Eggsy." Roxy followed up, standing and nodding in Eggsy's direction.

"Hi, Eggsy." Amelia said, and the two of them shook hands. Before letting go, Amelia lowered her voice and rolled her eyes in the direction of the boys at the other end of the room.

"Don't take any notice of those guys."

"That's what I told her." Roxy nodded in agreement.

There was a pause, and Eggsy looked down at the body bag again. Roxy seemed to notice, and, in a voice so low none of the others could hear, said;

"It's just scare tactics. Classic army technique. No one's gonna die..."

Eggsy heard Charlie snicker from somewhere behind her, and half turned to see Charlie, Digby and Rufus laughing about something, she suspected they were laughing at her. She caught Roxy's eye and nodded in the direction of the three of them.

"Shame." She muttered in response, her mouth quirking up into a half smile. She saw a smile tugging at the corners of Roxy's mouth too, as she rolled her eyes in a silent reply.

The rest of the evening passed without much happening. She made her bed while the others unpacked, glad to discover that the folded bedding also included a set of pyjamas, so at least she wouldn't have to sleep naked. Her experience from the marines came back to her quickly,  and she realised she was the first one to finish making her bed because of it. She spent the next few minutes watching Roxy place her meticulously folded clothes into the footlocker at the end of her bed. Noticing this, Roxy looked up and asked:

"You didn't bring anything?"

 Eggsy shrugged.

"Didn't get a chance to. I was offered the spot and brought straight here."

Eggsy saw the creases appearing on Roxy's brow as she thought about that.

"That's not very nice of...whoever recruited you." She remarked, obviously taking pains to follow her own advice about not talking about who had proposed them.

Eggsy spread her arms in a gesture that showed that yeah, she knew that, but what could she do about it.

"I dunno, for all I know he picked me as some kind of joke... " She gestured vaguely towards the boys on the opposite side of the room as she said it, since they obviously already saw her as one.

"Maybe he didn't think I'd be around long enough to need anything."

Roxy shook her head slightly, as if that didn't make sense to her. Shutting the lid on the footlocker, she stood and went to sit down on her bed, facing Eggsy.

"That's not... I don't think that's how it works. Look, I did some research, and it's not often Kingsman recruits a new member like this. It's a big deal, and even though everyone's supposed to be equal and all that, there's a lot of prestige involved in getting the candidate you pick as far as possible. I doubt any of them would pick a candidate at random, as a fluke. It's just not done, it's not worth the effort and the risk... So, you know, however you got here, I doubt it was a coincidence."

A cautious smile crept up on Eggsy's lips, and seeing that, Roxy smiled too. There was a pause when neither of them could think of anything to say, but then, almost as an afterthought, Roxy added:

"Eggsy?"

"Yeah?"

"According to my research, there's never been a female Lancelot before, ever." She hesitated, and looked over Eggsy's shoulder at Charlie, Rufus and Digby.

"Promise me you'll put up a fight, yeah?"

Eggsy considered for a moment, looking over her shoulder to follow Roxy's glance. Then, she turned back, and nodded in agreement. No way was she going to let Charlie or any of the others walk all over her.

They chatted for a bit, and Eggsy told Roxy all about her mother and sister, but mostly avoided talking about her step-father. Roxy didn’t seem to mind, or find that odd at all. As far as Eggsy could tell, Roxy’s father was, and had always been, mostly absent. She had three older brothers, and, according to Roxy, the four of them used to get into all kinds of trouble.

When they crawl into bed a couple of hours later, Eggsy realises that, despite her best efforts, she’s begun to like Roxy.

 

Sleep comes easier than she’d expected, and she drifts off listening to the snores of the others. Afterwards she tries to pinpoint the exact moment when she realised something was terribly wrong, only to find that she can’t. What started out as a bad dream, with the feeling of something cold and slippery creeping up her legs, turned into something very real once she startled awake. Fumbling with the switch, she manages to turn the light on, and sees, to her horror, that the room is rapidly _flooding_. Water is already lapping at her mattress, soaking the blankets, and it’s still rising fast.

She mutters a 'bloody hell' under her breath. Around her the others are beginning to wake, lights flicker on behind the row of beds opposite, and yells and warning cries fill the air. She stands without thinking, the water is already at her calves when she reaches up with one hand to grab a support beam for balance. She looks to her left, towards Roxy, but Roxy’s eyes are flickering left and right, trying to take stock of the situation, and Eggsy soon gives up trying to make eye contact. She realises that, just like always, it’s every man for himself, and that she was stupid to think otherwise.

From somewhere across the room, she hears Charlie’s voice telling everyone not to panic, and she hates how confident he sounds. She wonders briefly if this is the sort of thing they teach at Oxford or Cambridge, but doubts it equally as soon as she thinks it.

Another voice, that sounds very much like Roxy’s, shouts something that sounds like 'loo snorkels', which doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, and only makes her more confused. The water is at her chest now, and she starts to pull herself up towards the ceiling in order to breathe for as long as possible.

She needs a plan. And since the room is seconds away from flooding, and no one is going to help get her out of this mess, she needs it now. She’s had some training in holding her breath, she knows she’s got four, maybe five minutes before she’ll start to struggle for air. That’s plenty. It has to be…

The key thing when attempting to hold your breath for any length of time is to relax, which, when you’re in a flooding room with no apparent way out, isn’t easy. But Eggsy gives it her best shot, focusing on first forcing air out of her lungs, then taking in as much as she can in one last deep breath. The next moment she’s underwater, and she knows that the clock’s ticking.

Eggsy surveys the room, thinking to herself that unless their plan is to kill all their potential recruits, there has to be some way of escaping. She looks towards the door, but quickly rules it out as a possible escape route. She remembers that it opened inwards, and since the room is now filled with water, the pressure on the door is immense…there’s no way in hell she’ll get it open. She turns, and sees that all of her fellow recruits have made breathing devices by showing what appears to be shower hoses into the toilets. The term ‘loo snorkel’ makes somewhat more sense now, and the thought occurs to her that what if _that_ was the test?

_Well, fuck._

She coaxes her mind away from that prospect. Okay, so maybe she fucked up, she still needs to find a way out. There’s no way she’s dying in this godforsaken bunker.

That’s when she sees it, a quick glimmer, like a movement, out of the corner of her eye. When she turns towards it, all she sees is her own reflection, but she knows instinctively that that is her way out. It quickly becomes so glaringly obvious that she’s annoyed with herself for not noticing it before.

There are a couple of ways to spot a two-way mirror, and Eggsy realises that the large mirror in the bathroom area ticks off both major checkpoints. Firstly, because a two-way mirror needs to accommodate the watchers, as well as those being watched, it's set _into_ the wall instead of hanging _on_ it. Second, because whoever is watching needs to see what's going on, the light in the room that's being watched needs to be much brighter than the room on the opposite side of the glass. That meant that sometimes, when you were in the room being watched, and if you looked closely and knew what to look for, you could sometimes pick up the movements of whoever was watching behind the mirror.

She knows it's not a foolproof plan by any means, but right now it was the best she could come up with. She knew that mirrors, like car windows, were often made with tempered glass. Tempered glass was, on the whole, very tough and resistant to impact, which was why it was widely used...but, if you managed to put a hairline crack in it, by using something sharp with enough force, it would shatter.    

She remembered the tool she had attached to her keychain, a keychain she no longer had in her possession, thanks to Dean's sudden desire to murder her on sight. The tool consisted of a spring and a sharp ceramic splint in a plastic casing. She'd never actually used it to escape a car, only to gain access to one, but it worked great when you had no option but to smash a window to get in. So, in theory, it should work just as well when you needed to smash a mirror to get out.

She began looking around for something she could use to improvise an emergency hammer. The key thing was to find something pointed and sharp, to have any hope of shattering the glass. Having a sort of plan figured out, she set to work, trying her best to ignore the persistent voice in the back of her mind, saying 'what if this doesn't work?' over and over again. It had to work, there was no other option.

Working against the clock, she still takes a moment to survey the room. This time she ignores the others, and focuses on what she can use to make her escape. One of the toilets have been shattered by the force of the water, and she slowly swims closer, carefully picking up a piece of ceramic debris. When ceramic shatters, it shatters into sharp-edged pieces... impractical in an ordinary setting, but potentially life-saving when you want to get out of a room underwater. She picks up a piece that fits nicely in her hand, and swims towards the glass.

Eggsy's lost track of how long she's been under, but her lungs are starting to ache for air, and she knows she hasn't got much time left. On her way towards the mirror, as she passing the others, she locks eyes with Roxy, whose expression she can't really make sense of. It looks like she's fighting the impulse to help, as well as being both impressed and annoyed that she didn't think of escape first. Eggsy thinks to herself that Roxy's probably the smarter one, as she reaches the mirror, and grips the sink for leverage.

She's read somewhere that when glass is submerged, any corners become the weakest spots. Sending a prayer to some higher power that she remembers that information correctly, Eggsy braces herself against the sink, and focuses her attention on the lower lefthand corner of the mirror.

The ceramic shard cuts her hand badly already on the first blow, but the mirror seems undamaged. Fighting the urge to curse and scream, and the sense of pure, unadulterated _panic_ that starts to bubble up inside her chest, she forces herself to pull back and ready herself for another strike. Forcing herself to ignore the way her lungs feel like they're going to explode, to ignore the desperation that's clawing its way into her thoughts, she focuses all her attention on a point the size of a pinhead, attempting to hit it with the tip of the shard.

She sees her own blood like a red mist in the water, but it doesn't scare her, or make her feel anything in particular. Briefly, she thinks that it's a good thing, because if she's going to die, it's comforting to think that at least she bled first...

That's when she sees it, just a brief glimmer in the water, a tiny shard of mirrored glass. Without thinking, she puts all her force behind a third punch, and is rewarded with the deep sound of glass cracking that seems to reverberate through the water, before the mirror shatters into a million pieces, and she's pulled along with the flood into the room beyond.

For the first few moments, Eggsy hardly notices that she's lying on a floor, entangled in a jumble of six other people's limbs, because she's busy savouring the first breath of air. It feels like her lungs are being stabbed with hundreds of tiny pins, and still it manages to be the best feeling she can remember having. The novelty dissipates as she takes a second and a third breath, and she sits up, untangling herself from the rest of the group.

Only now does she notice Merlin, who steps forwards from a corner. Of course he'd been the one observing them...

Eggsy notes that he's wearing a rain coat, but that it appears to be just for show, because there's not a drop of water on any visible part of him.

"Congratulations on completing your first task. Charlie, Roxy...well done. For those of you who are still confused - if you can get a breathing tube around the u-bend of a toilet, you have an unlimited air supply. Simple physics, worth remembering. Eggsy, well done for spotting that was a two-way mirror."

"She's probably seen enough of them." Charlie's pipes up from somewhere in front of her. And although Eggsy would like nothing better than to shut him up, she's too cold and too tired to dignify him with a clever retort.

Her eyes meet Roxy's, who looks just as cold and exhausted as Eggsy feels, but also glad to be alive, and happy to have been praised on her accomplishment.

"You can all wipe those smirks off your faces." Merlin continues, ignoring Charlie completely.

"Because as far as I'm concerned, every single one of you has failed. You all forgot the most important thing... Teamwork."

Merlin's eyes seem to stare holes in their very souls, as he points to the room on the other side of the partition. Eggsy cranes her neck, but soon realises she can't see whatever it is he wants them to, so she stands. In front of her, Roxy does the same, and around her the others also get to their feet. Hesitantly all of them step forward.

The room is still partially filled with water, and at first glance, Eggsy thinks that it looks the same as it did when she entered it earlier that evening. But then she sees the glaring error, and judging by the gasp that escapes her lips, so does Roxy. Amelia is lying prone in the center of the room, soaked, like the rest of them, but unmoving and no longer breathing. Eggsy whispers a barely audible 'fuck', before taking another step forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Roxy. With a glance at the other girl, she says what both of them are thinking.

"So much for classic army technique."

 

 

* * *

 

It's almost morning when Merlin enters the study, and Harry is ever so thankful for the interruption, having been restlessly pacing the length of the room for some time.

"How did she do?"

Merlin ignores him, goes straight to the bar and pours himself a measure of scotch, probably debating whether or not to give Harry the 'this is against protocol' speech.   
Harry is thankful when he elects not to.

"Not too bad." Merlin's replies after taking a sip of his drink, and Harry, of course, knows that Merlin saying 'not to bad' in that tone of voice is equal to high praise from anyone else.

"She missed out on the idea of the breathing tubes, but she recognised the mirror and held her breath for five minutes while she figured out how to break it, so...I'd say there's definitely hope for the second generation Unwin to grace us with her presence."

Harry is silent, but he's smiling, feeling a burst of pride for Eggsy's sake.

"Thank you." He says, finally, camouflaging his feelings as best he can, even though he knows there's no use hiding them from the man opposite him.

"Go to bed, Harry. You've got your own mission to worry about." Merlin replies, sounding both exasperated and amused, before raising his hand in a toast and draining his glass in one.

 

 

* * *

 


	3. Day One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've retconned the story ever so slightly, so that Harry actually stays at the HQ mansion after escorting Eggsy to her first test, because I realised that if I'm going to created a believeable romance between those two, they'd need to be in the same place some of the time. 
> 
> Apart from that, this chapter has given me no end of trouble, and I've lost count of how many times I've rewritten/edited it. I'm still not completely happy, but since I can't put my finger on what's bothering me, I figured I would post it, so I can move on with the story. 
> 
> Thanks again for all your wonderful feedback, it's been a great motivation through the rough patches!

Without much ceremony, they're sent to another room, eerily similar to the first, and left to dry off and change into new clothes. The mood is sombre, the fact that someone had actually died seemed to have put everyone in their place. Except, when Eggsy faces the wall in order to pull off her pyjama top and put on a new one, she feels a piercing gaze formely crawl across the skin of her back. For a second or two she tries to tell herself that it could be any of the boys, but she knows already that it's Charlie who's watching her. She takes a sharp breath, and practically yanks the top down over her breasts, before turning her head sharply to look behind her.

Charlie is standing there, just as she thought, on the opposite side of the room, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. Their eyes meet, and she's struck by the look of hunger in them, like a predator eyeing prey. Well, he can fuck right off, she thinks to herself. She's not about to be anybody's prey, at least not while she's here.

"The fuck are you looking at?"

She straightens her top with a final tug, and turns her whole body towards him. Charlie is wearing a creepy, lopsided smile.

"You, of course." His voice is loud enough that it gets everyone's attention, and she can tell by the look in his eyes that he's enjoying himself.

"I was just thinking, now that Amelia is gone, you've graduated to the top spot..."

He says it with a kind of appreciation that makes her shudder, while gesturing vaguely towards Digby and Rufus, his cronies. Digby grins, mimicking his leader, while Rufus, to his credit, looks rather apprehensive.

"What top spot?"

Eggsy regret the words the minute she speaks them, because of the shark-like grin that appears on Charlie's face, and the realization that this was what he'd wanted all along. He leans in close, and whispers in her ear;

"Which one we'd like to fuck first."

She bites her lip, struggling not to laugh at his trying to sound intimidating. He doesn't frighten her as much like this, up close, and it also occurs to her that unlike at home, she doesn't have to worry about someone else suffering because of her big mouth.

"Charles..." She begins, leaning in, but raising her voice just enough that she too has everyone’s attention.  She rather enjoys seeing how he stiffens at the sound of his given name.

"I'd rather deepthroat a cactus."

There is something very satisfying in seeing how Charlie's eyes widen in surprise. From behind her, she can hear Roxy snort, and she turns towards the sound to see not only Roxy but also a couple of the others, including Rufus, look at Charlie with a good deal more schadenfreude than she would have expected, seeing as he's already styled himself as the leader of the group.

She looks back at Charlie, grins the impish little grin that her stepfather despises, and pulls one shoulder into a half-shrug, before turning away and going back to her bunk. He mutters something that she can't make out, except she's fairly certain she hears the word 'bitch'. The way he looks at her changes quickly from lust to loathing, and she knows that she’s made an enemy. Not a very dangerous one, perhaps, but still…  

 

* * *

 

 

The next day comes far too quickly, and as they're roused from their beds, Eggsy thinks that after what they went through last night, she would have like to sleep for a week. Judging from Roxy's less than chipper expression it's fairly obvious she feels the same, even if she's somewhat better than Eggsy at disguising it.

"You're kidding me..." Eggsy mutters under her breath as she creeps from her bed to examine the new clothes that have materialized for all of them, neatly folded on top of their footlockers.

She finds a nondescript, but excellent quality, white shirt, black dress pants, and plain-toed, tan leather boots, but that's not what surprises her. At the bottom of the pile, underneath everything else, is a boiler suit. It's a fancy boiler suit, hers is light brown plaid, Roxy's, she sees out of the corner of her eye, is dark grey pinstripe, and the others have variations of those and other classic patterns. Roxy notices the expression of bewilderment on her face.

"It's a siren suit." She says matter-of-factly, while examining her own.

"They were in use during World War II, people would put them on over their nightclothes when they heard the sirens, before heading to the air raid shelters. Hence the name..."

"Why would they need to put on boiler suits before entering the shelters?" Eggsy asks, still confused, and trying to remember whether or not she's ever heard about this in a school history lesson.

"Because in the 40s it was considered very improper to let anyone see you in your nightgown...unless that someone was your husband, and even then it was a bit of a gray area. Exposing yourself like that to dozens of people in a shelter was just not done."

Eggsy looks down, embarrassed at having asked such a stupid question, but when she hazards a glance up at Roxy, the other girl is smiling, seemingly just happy to have known the answer.

"You know, Churchill had several..." Rufus offers, sitting on the bed opposite Roxy's. He throws a worried glance at Eggsy, to see if she minds his interference, but Eggsy just shrugs and looks down at her siren suit, saying.

"Now, there's a style icon, right there..." Which earns her a chuckle from Rufus.

"I think Turnbull & Asser even made him one from bottle green velvet." He adds, as he finishes tying his shoe laces and stands.

"Thank God for small favours." Eggsy mutters in reply, eyeing the plaid suit with somewhat more appreciation as she gets up and begins to dress.

The new clothes feel weird at first, the shirt hugs her in places she's not used to, the pants rest differently on her hips, but after a little while it feels alright...just different. Eggsy herself doesn't notice how her posture automatically improves, how her shoulders relax, or how her back straightens, but Merlin does, when he comes in to inspect them fifteen minutes later. He's careful to hide his smile, and as always he keeps his thoughts to himself, but it seems there is hope for Galahad's protégé after all...

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning."

"Good morning, sir." They all echo back.

"Follow me, please."

 

Merlin leads them down one corridor, then another, before they emerge in the large hangar Eggsy had seen when she'd entered with Harry the night before. They continue into a different part of what Eggsy realises is a veritable maze, there's a new corridor and a set of stairs leading up and into a large white-walled room with two smaller hallways and several other rooms branching off of it. Eggsy immediately thinks it resembles a doctor's office, and, as it turns out, that's exactly what it is.

They're split into boys and girls, Roxy and Eggsy are sent down one hallway, while the boys go down the other. In front of a half-open door at the end of the hall, they are greeted by a woman with short, silver hair, wearing a similar outfit to what both Roxy and Eggsy are wearing underneath their siren suits, except hers is obviously tailored, and she wears subtle jewelry with it, pearl earrings and a gold  bracelet. Quite tall and slender, she cuts a striking figure, and Eggsy thinks that she wouldn't hesitate to describe her as beautiful if asked, even though she'd guess the older woman to be well past seventy.

"Good morning, girls. My name is Elaine Woodville, I'll be conducting your medical examinations today."

"What, no fancy nickname for you?" Eggsy asks without thinking, then silently curses herself as the older woman fixes her with a stare.  Eggsy looks down, doing her best to look shameful, and is surprised to hear amusement in her voice when the older woman replies:

"Dr. Woodville will do nicely."

Daring to look up at that, their eyes meet, and Eggsy sees the other woman's eyes sparkle with mischief. Seeing that, the corners of her mouth quirk upwards, and she says:

"Yes, ma'am."

"Would you be Roxanne or Geraldine?"

"Geraldine, ma'am."

Dr. Woodville smiles. It’s nothing more than a slight quirk of her lips, but for the briefest of seconds Eggsy thinks it looks somehow familiar. She dismisses the thought almost immediately, as the older woman says:

“Very well. Follow me.”

Two female nurses wait for them in the room behind the white door, and the next few hours are spent doing all kinds of physical evaluations. For once, Roxy is the nervous one, while Eggsy takes most of it in her stride. It’s a fairly similar process to what she went through before entering the marines, but more extensive, which makes sense considering Kingsman is supposed to be the best there is. There are x-rays, hearing tests, vision tests, and various exams; heart, lungs, ears, teeth, and a host of others that after a while turn into a seemingly never ending blur of questions, poking and prodding.

After the testing is completed, she's called into Dr. Woodville's office.

"I wanted to have a word with you." She says, as Eggsy closes the door behind her.

"Have a seat."

Unsure of what's coming, Eggsy does as she's told.

"I'll get right to the point." Dr Woodville continues, fixing her with that ice blue stare.

"Your records indicate that you've had issues with drug use in the past. Is that going to be a problem?"

Eggsy shook her head.

"I've been sober for two years, eight months and twenty...six days," she answered calmly, meeting the glance of the woman opposite.

"So nah, that's not gonna be a problem."

"That's very specific," Dr. Woodville remarked with a small smile, her voice sounding kinder almost immediately.

"It's when my little sister was born." Eggsy explains.

"Someone had to look out for her..."

"One would think that would be your mother's main concern...not yours." Dr. Woodville says, folding her hands in front of her on the desk.

"Mum's main concern is keeping Dean happy so he doesn't kill her. That's hard to do on any given day, even more so with a baby around, even though that baby is his."

"Dean is your stepfather... correct?"

Eggsy nods, and squirms a little in her chair. There's nothing like the mention of his name to conjure up the feeling of a rough hand closing around her throat.

"Geraldine..." Dr. Woodville begins carefully.

"May I ask you one more personal question?"

"Sure." Eggsy feels herself shrink under the gaze of the older woman, and has to swallow hard in order to keep her voice sounding normal. Personal questions regarding her step father is something she would rather not answer, but she feels like she doesn't have much choice. Not cooperating is undoubtedly frowned upon, and somehow the thought that she might disappoint Harry in this is worse than the discomfort she feels when having to talk about Dean.

"We discovered some irregularities during your medical examination.... marks after healed fractures that we found no trace of in your records, as well as fading bruises that are...inconsistent with everyday accidents..." Dr. Woodville starts, before she hesitates, and asks:

"Is he violent, your stepfather?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Eggsy answers, her jaw tightening with anger as memories of all the times Dean has beaten her mother or herself begin to flicker in her mind.

"Towards your mother, as well?"

Eggsy nods.

"When I can't get between 'em."

"And your sister?"

Eggsy shakes her head firmly, several strands of hair escaping from her pony tail.

"No. He leaves her alone...or at least he has... Me and mum make sure he takes it out on one of us..."

"I see." Dr. Woodville replies softly. 

  

When she's finally dismissed, Eggsy feels well and truly exposed, and she's certain that by now Kingsman knows ten times more about her than she does herself. But one look over at Roxy, who appears just as exhausted as Eggsy feels when she meets her glance, betrays that at least she's not alone.

Merlin comes to collect them, and for the first time Eggsy thinks she sees a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes, but it's gone almost as soon as it appeared, and if someone had asked her she wouldn't have sworn on it.  
They're reunited with the boys, and guided to a dining room where lunch is waiting for them. The food is the best Eggsy has ever tasted, and there's plenty of it to go around.

 

* * *

 

 

Elaine Woodville leafed through Geraldine Unwin's records once again, while she made her way to the East wing of the manor, where the private apartments were located. She thought of how rare it was to have Kingsman recruits with a background like that, and that even in the few instances it had occured, it had been for positions further down the hierarchy, not for consideration for a place at the high table.

She approaches a door, knocks three times, and waits until an impatient

"Yes?" is called from inside.

She opens it, and walks in to find Harry Hart straightening his tie in front of a full length mirror. It's rare to find him here, he's never made a secret of preferring London to HQ, and even though the house contains an apartment reserved for him, he's barely used it. The fact that he's chosen to now is...curious. Elaine had allowed herself to speculate, but also reminded herself that nothing could be proven, so it would be wise to keep her thoughts to herself.  

"Can this wait?" He asks, before even turning around. No greeting, no unneccessary pleasantries. 

"No."

When she sees his back straighten, like he is about to protest, she continues.

"It's about your candidate."

She hears a sigh, and a muttered curse, before he turns around to face her.

"She failed the drug test?"

She shakes her head.  
"No. Not a trace of anything illegal in her system. She says she's been clean for years, and I believe her."

"Then why the visit? Did she fail the physical?" There's disbelief in his voice, and he arches an eyebrow and crosses his arms in front of him.

"No... " She pauses, unsure of how to proceed, but in the end she doesn't bother to sensor herself.

"However, she easily could have. The girl has more scar tissue and healed fractures than some of our agents, for God's sake!"

Her voice cracks like a whip across the room, and she can tell by the look in his eyes that she momentarily caught him off guard, so she continues before he has a chance to say anything.  "Even if she makes it through the selection process, there's no telling how long she'll be able to serve in the field..."

He uncrosses his arms, and moves his hands to his hips, the arch of his eyebrow becoming more pronounced as he questions her.

"Your point being?"

"Do you know what you're doing, Galahad? Because I'm concerned that you've pulled this girl into a world she is not prepared for, and had no concept of three days ago, because you still feel guilty about her father's death."

"What would you rather I'd done? She called in the favour herself, to get out of jail..."

"And you fulfilled your end of the bargain, after what I understand. It's quite a leap between getting her out of jail and putting her forth as a potential Kingsman knight, don't you think?"

She cocks her head slightly to one side, in a gesture she knows he loathes, and watches how Harry Hart struggles to retain his composure. Even after all these years, the sight amuses her.

“Are you going to withdraw her paperwork or not?”

His voice is sharp when he speaks again, his words clipped, and to be quite honest his anger surprises her. It's a rare occurrence for him to so easily betray his feelings.

“No, she might make as good a knight as any of the others. But…”

“What?”

“Be careful, Harry.”

Her voice has softened by the time she finishes, and the two of them look at each other for a moment, before Elaine turns and walks back the way she came.

Once again alone in his front room, Harry Hart stared at the door, resisting the urge to curse loudly at it, and by extension the woman who had just exited. He managed it, just barely.

Eggsy was not your typical Kingsman candidate, he was well aware of that. But neither was her father at the time of _his_ recruitment, and he had been the most promising of his group…

Of course he thought of Lee when he saw Eggsy, that was damn near unavoidable. Father and daughter had similar personalities; a fighting spirit, coupled with a mouth that said whatever entered their minds without much thought for whom they were speaking to, or what outcome the words could lead to. Intelligent and loyal to a fault, both would have been an asset to Kingsman. Eggsy would be, he corrected himself. He wouldn't allow himself to fail her as he had failed her father.

 

* * *

 

 

Eggsy had absolutely no idea what to expect when they were summoned outside after lunch that afternoon, but even her speculation included some form of strenuous physical activity. So her surprise is genuine when they're faced with a pyramid of cages containing various breeds of dogs, and she thinks to herself that this looks like no military exercise she's ever heard of. She raises an eyebrow at Roxy, who's standing immediately to her left, and receives the barest hint of a shrug in reply, revealing that all of Roxy's research haven't given her any idea what's about to happen either.

Merlin appears on a balcony above them, his voice carrying effortlessly across the courtyard.

"As some of you will have learned last night, teamwork is paramount here at Kingsman..."

At this, most of them throw embarrassed sideways glances as each other.

"We're here to enhance your skills and test you to the limit. Which is why you're gonna pick a puppy. Wherever you go, your dog goes. You will care for it. You will teach it. And by the time it's fully trained, so will you be. Those of you who are still here, that is. Do you understand?"

Eggsy murmurs her affirmative along with the others.

"Choose your puppy."

There's a rustle as the line breaks up, and all of them walk towards the cages. Charlie, Roxy and one or two others, seemingly having made their choices while Merlin was speaking, head directly for the chosen pups, while the others hesitate, consider and weigh their options. At least that's what it looks like to Eggsy.

She has no idea what dog to choose, she's never owned a pet in her life before. She’s fed strays, even trained some of them, but she’s never bothered to learn the different temperaments of different breeds. It's another area in which she feels woefully unprepared compared to the others. She bites down on her lip and steps closer to the cages. Alright, she'll just have to pick one at random and live with it, how bad could it be?

Except it doesn't really happen at random after all. Her eye is drawn to the cage that sits second from right in the bottom row, in between the cages where Roxy and Charlie selected their dogs from. At first, she thinks it's empty, but then she sees that it's really not. The puppy inside of it is tiny compared to the others, and looks sort of like a miniature bulldog. Despite knowing that cuteness is hardly a good selection criteria, it feels like her heart melts at the sight, and she knows in that moment what her choice is going to be.

Gently, she opens the cage, and the puppy comes padding towards her to sniff her hand.

"It'll be you an' me, yeah?" She murmurs, while petting the soft fur of the puppy's back.

"We'll be fierce, won't we?"

The puppy yaps in response, and begins to lick her fingers.

 

When they re-form the line, each with their new puppy in tow, Eggsy looks over at Roxy's choice of dog.

"A poodle?" She asks, amused and a little surprised. She'd never imagined Roxy would go for a frilly, high maintenance dog.

"What?" Roxy replies, defensive.

"They're gun dogs. Oldest working breed...easy to train." She seems pleased with the reasoning behind her choice, and Eggsy can't really find any fault in it, not even being entirely sure what a gun dog is.

Now it's Roxy's turn.

"A pug?"

Eggsy frowns.

"It's a bulldog, ain't it?"

Roxy shakes her head, and makes a disappointed sound, while at the same time biting her lip and looking like she's about to burst into laughter.

"But it'll get bigger, though? Won't it?"

Roxy shakes her head again, more serious this time. Behind her, Eggsy can see Charlie trying and failing to hide a grin, and she hears him snicker. She looks down at the tiny puppy sitting at her feet, and doesn't even try to fight the urge to swear.

 

* * *

 

 

They're dismissed a few moments later, and while they're all guarded, and projecting a general sense of disbelief that none of them have been near death at least once during the course of the day, they're also happy for the opportunity to spend an afternoon however they want.

Eggsy, after taking one look and realising Charlie and his cronies are the only ones in their dorm, decides she needs more fresh air and heads back outside, her new puppy, J.B, at her heels. As she slips through the main doors, she sees a familiar figure at the bottom of the stairs.

"Harry!"

He doesn't turn straight away, but when he does it's with a smile, and she notices for the first time how it makes his face soften.

"Hello, Eggsy."

J.B barks a greeting, coming to stand in front of his owner.

"I see you've picked your dog..." Harry says as J.B comes over to sniff his shoes, and to see if this new person will also pet him.

"Interesting choice." He remarks, as he kneels down to pet J.B.

Eggsy is surprised at how kind his voice sounds, she'd thought she would be chastised for making yet another stupid decision. But Harry seems almost as enamored with J.B as she is, murmuring praise under his breath while the puppy circles around in an attempt to get the maximum amount of petting.

"What's his name?" Harry asks, pausing as the pug runs back to Eggsy.

"J.B." She responds with a grin, as the pug circles her, barks happily, and runs back to Harry.

"You named him James Bond?"

Eggsy scoffs.

"No! Jack Bauer....you know, from 24."

Harry gives J.B a final scratch behind the ears before straightening.

"Good name."

 When their eyes meet again, there is a mischievous kind of spark in his...a lightness that she's never noticed before, but she immediately thinks it suits him. But then a car pulls up to the house, and as they both turn towards it, Eggsy sees the spark disappear.

"You're leaving." She observes, and he nods almost absentmindedly.

"Why?"

The question earns her a quick quirk of his lips, but there is a sadness over his features now that wasn't there a few moments before.

"I _am_ an agent, there is something I have to do..."

"Like a mission?"

He hesitates for a moment, then replies:

"...yes, like a mission."

Seeing the expression on her face, he adds:

"But don't worry, it's nothing complex, it should only take a day, if that. I'll be back here by nightfall."

She nods in understanding, and he gives her a last, sad smile before beginning to walk towards the waiting car.

"Harry!"

He turns around immediately, and she smiles what she hopes is a confident smile.

"Be safe."  

"Of course."

He smiles back, and nods, as if to underline what he's just said, but the warmth of his smile that was so clearly there moments before is gone, and a claw tightens in the pit of Eggsy's stomach as she watches the car disappear through the gates.

 

* * *

 

 

She returns to the house soon after, and decides now is as good a time as any to call her mother and tell her she’s alright. Her phone died in the flood the previous night, but there's one in the foyer that they're allowed to use, so she crawls into the chair in the corner, J.B in her lap, and dials her mother's phone number. It's one of very few numbers she actually has memorized, probably due to the fact that it hasn't changed since she was a child. Her mum picks up on the second ring, but her voice is uncertain and somewhat cold when she answers. For a moment Eggsy is surprised and slightly ticked off, but then she remembers that she's calling from an unfamilliar number.

"Hi mum, it's me."

"Eggsy!" Her mother's voice is breathless, and Eggsy can hear hurried movements and a door closing on the other end of the line.

"Are you alright? Where are you? I was so worried... you didn't come home last night!"

"I'm fine, mum." Eggsy reassures her.  
"But listen, I'm... I'm not gonna come home for a while. There's something I have to do..."

There's a long pause.

“It’s nothing illegal, I swear.” Eggsy continues, as she realizes that her reluctance to give details makes it sound like she’s back to doing drugs or something along those lines.

“No, Eggsy. Listen to me… You come home right now! Please…"

Her mum's voice is pleading, desperate, and it takes Eggsy every ounce of strength she has not to just hang up the phone, walk out the door and find her way home. But she reminds herself that if she does, nothing will ever change. What her life has been like for the past seventeen years will be what it'll be like for the next seventy, or however long she's going to be around. Her mum will never get out of Dean's clutches by herself, and Daisy... Daisy will be fucked.

"No, listen... An old friend of dad found out I'd been in the marines, and he made me a job offer….kind of. Point is, I can't give this up, mum... I have to do it. I know you're upset, and I'm sorry, but it's...it could be a great opportunity. If I make it, I can make sure Dean never comes near you again...and you, me and Daisy, we could get away...start fresh."

There is a long pause, so long in fact that Eggsy wondered if her mum had hung up on her. And when her mother speaks again, Eggsy is momentarily surprised at how her voice sounds, because it’s not shaky and terrified like she’s used to hearing it. It’s calm…insistent and calm, and she wonders if this is what her mum used to sound like, before Dean. And then, of course, she realises that her mother knows, even though she's purposely been as vague as possible.

“Eggsy, listen to me… be safe, whatever you do. I can’t lose you too, I need you to come back.”

“I will, mum. I’ll call you when I can… Take care.”   

“I love you. Take care.”

She hangs up, and for the first time since she arrived she feels the urge to cry. For the first time she feels homesick, for the first time since she arrived she wants nothing more than to curl up with Daisy on the sofa and watch telly. But at the same time, she knows an opportunity when she sees one, her life has at least taught her that much. And she knows this is an opportunity she’ll never have again.

 

She takes refuge in the library, where she finds Roxy curled up with a book in a chair by the window. She sinks down in one of the comfy chairs and lets J.B crawl into her lap, where he promptly falls asleep. Roxy looks up from her book and raises an eyebrow, which is all the encouragement Eggsy needs to tell her about her phone call home. It helps to talk about it, and after a while Roxy has her laughing about something else entirely, and the two of them remain there in the library until it's time for dinner.

Eggsy is the last one to head back to the dormitory from the common room that night, and sees the front lights of a car while passing through one of the hallways. Curious, she stops, and tiptoes over to the window, to see if it's Harry keeping his promise. It is...after a fashion. But instead of coming back in the same grey Audi he left in, Harry Hart has made his return trip to Kingsman HQ by ambulance.

Eggsy freezes, staring out into the darkened courtyard. She thinks she sees Merlin organizing things down there, wearing the same jacket as when he was present for their introduction test the night before, and it hits her that this is not something she's supposed to see, a seasoned agent coming back unconscious and hooked up to half a dozen machines. Yet, she can't take her eyes away... She watches them as they move the stretcher into the house, her eyes never moving from the man on it. She wants desperately to know what happened, and if Harry is going to be okay, but she realises it would be a big mistake to go running through the mansion late at night, trying to find out where they took him. Merlin would have her hide for one, and it was probably not a good idea to betray her concern for Harry to God and everybody. Still, as she made her way back to the dorm, he was all she could think of. Memories of their interactions flashed before her inner eye, and she caught herself wondering if she would ever see him again, or if the image of him on a stretcher was the last one she'd have.  

 


	4. Change of Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy is getting to grips with Kingsman training, and she find out what happened to Harry.

She awoke the next morning with J.B curled up against her neck. He'd flatly refused to behave like a normal dog and sleep in the basket next to her bed, and instead had yelped and whined until the noise, and the looks from her roommates, had persuaded her to lift him into bed with her. He'd immediately settled just below her pillow and fallen sound asleep. Eggsy had muttered a few choice words about what a stubborn idiot dog he was, but she had to admit to herself that it was rather comforting to have a warm, breathing bundle of fur curled up next to her, even when it turned out that said bundle also snored.

She sits up, rubbing the remnants of sleep from her eyes, and J.B makes a disgruntled noise at being disturbed, before immediately making himself a nest in her crumpled sheets and going back to sleep. Eggsy edges forwards and set her feet down, shivering as they touch the cold floor. It had taken her hours to fall asleep the night before, the image of an unconscious Harry floating to the front of her thoughts whenever she came anywhere close. She'd decided to try her best to find out what had happened the moment she walked away from the window, but she needed to be careful. Being too obvious would likely get her sent home... Maybe she'd even get to make use of that body bag they'd threatened with.

She didn't have something as grand as a plan, she didn't even know where they kept him, or even, she realised, if he was still alive. That thought was too painful to think through, and in an effort to distract herself she jumped off the bed and headed towards the showers. She reminded herself that she'd have to get through the day and not be sent home until she'd had the chance to snoop around. Maybe somewhere along the way she'd even come up with something like a...strategy.

The joint showers weren’t as bad as she’d feared. It helped not to be shy, of course, but it also helped that the boys, although they outnumbered her and Roxy, found the showers just as humiliating. Even Charlie had kept his mouth shut when he realised that no special treatment was forthcoming, and that he'd have to strip down in full view like the rest of them.

It was odd how quickly things became routine, Eggsy mused, as she stood in the rush of warm water, listening to her roommates as they began to wake around her. The sounds had already become familiar, comforting in almost the same way as waking to Daisy's muffled babbling coming from the kitchen back home.   
As good as the warm water felt, she finished her shower quickly. There's a limit to how long she feels comfortable being completely exposed, after all.

She dries herself off and puts on fresh clothes - workout gear this time. She's curious to see what this means for their daily activities, but she feels at least somewhat prepared for the physical aptitude tests. She greets Roxy, who mutters something that sounds like 'good morning' from behind a mop of bushy hair. Then, she's distracted by J.B, who has emerged from his nest among the bedsheets and is amusing himself by tugging at her sleeves, and being a general rascal. She sighs, and throws a long glance in Roxy's direction, specifically towards her puppy , who is sitting quietly on the floor next to her bunk, watching her mistress get ready for the day. It's been less than 24 hours, and Roxy already seems to have her puppy under control. Eggsy looks down at the little ball of fur now lying on his back in her lap, chewing happily on the right sleeve of her jumper, and silently curses the dog she chose, but she can’t bring herself to get mad. She scratches J.B’s tummy, and thinks that maybe she’ll find time to actually start training him this afternoon.

But then Merlin enters, and she remembers that her first priority is to find Harry, assuming she can get through the day. She eyes Merlin closely, to see if she can glean anything from his demeanor, but he is his usual stoic self, and while she notes that his eyes rest on her for a long moment before surveying the rest of the room, she's not sure what to make of that. Like yesterday he greets them and asks them to follow, and soon they're once again wandering the corridors, up four floors this time, to what feels like the very top of the house.

They soon find themselves in a long room, with large windows on one side, facing the garden, and giving them quite a view of the surrounding area, and intricate paintings on the other. In the centre of the room there are rubberized mats on the floor, and Eggsy wonders for a moment if this means some form of martial arts training. Then she sees the sword stands, carefully placed along the walls, containing every type of sword imaginable.

_Of course...of course it's bloody fencing._

She sees a triumphant smirk spread across Charlie's face. She's fairly certain that this _is_ the kind of thing they teach posh boys at Eaton or Harrow or wherever posh boys go to school, and curses inwardly. She curses Charlie and his smug face, she curses Roxy, who will no doubt prove to be a natural at this like she is at everything else, but most of all she curses Harry, who is a Kingsman agent and knew all along what she'd be put through as an initiate, and still thought it was a good idea to recruit her.

Or perhaps... the thought occurs to her suddenly, it hadn't been his idea. Maybe it's tradition... Maybe someone always has to pick a hopeless candidate, providing a laugh for the others and this time it was Harry's turn? No. That couldn't be it, could it? If it was, then what about her father... "Your father was a brave man... A good man". Harry had spoken highly of him, too highly for her to make herself believe he hadn't meant it. She tried her best to shake the thought, she needed to believe that Harry had chosen her because he had faith. If she couldn’t convince herself of that, she’d no longer be able to see the point in any part of this training.

She honestly hadn’t noticed the man standing in the middle of the room, until he stepped forward to greet them. He was as tall as Harry, or perhaps an inch or two taller still, with dark hair and striking green eyes. He cuts an imposing figure, but he smiles at them, and when he introduces himself, he manages to sound as if this is something he truly enjoys.   
"Gentlemen."   
"And ladies," he added with a nod to Roxy and Eggsy.   
"My name is Charles Vance, and I will be your combat instructor. It's my job to prepare you for anything you might encounter as a Kingsman, which means that those of you who make it all the way through training will know how to defend yourself using any weapon, from your bare hands to some of the most sophisticated weaponry known to man. And if I have anything to say about it, you'll be equally proficient, regardless of the weapon."

He paused and surveyed them, something like amusement flashing in his eyes.   
  
"Lesson number one, as some of you may have guessed, is fencing. In this room, you'll learn the classic art; that is, fencing as it has been used for fighting and self defence. This is not the Olympics, and as such, you do not need to be taught the Olympic sport. However, as one has branched off from the other, some stances and movements will be similar, and some terminology may overlap."

He signals them to come forward, and proceeds to guide each of them as they selected their blade. On closer inspection, his comment about the Olympics makes sense, Eggsy thinks to herself, because the blade in her hand is a rapier, sharp and unyielding in comparison to the flimsy foils she's seen fencers on TV use. The sword is surprisingly heavy, but as her arm gets used to the weight, she becomes more appreciative of the craftsmanship, of how smooth the dark, polished wood feels, and how the wrought metal wraps around her hand to protect it. It's a magnificent weapon, and she could understand if someone didn't want to fight using anything else.

It turns out, however, that none of them are very graceful fighters. Eggsy is a little surprised to watch Charlie, Digby and Rufus stumble about as much as the rest of them, with the added disadvantage of trying to seem smart about it. She doesn't have to be a professional to see that if he intends to turn them all into swordsmen, Mr. Vance has got his work cut out for him.

A few hours later, as Mr. Vance is preparing to call their lesson to a close, Eggsy is willing to swear that every muscle in her body hurts, and she's already dreading what getting up the next morning is going to feel like. But still, it feels alright in a way. She doubts she'll ever be the graceful fighter that Roxy has the makings of, but the sword feels a little less cumbersome as she balances it in her hand, and she's not flailing all over the place when moving between the different stances they've been taught so far.

They've been practicing sparring, and Roxy grins at her from across the mat when they're told that the lesson is over and to lower their swords. Both of them are drenched in sweat and breathing hard, but it's also very satisfying, this feeling of accomplishment. Eggsy grins back. As she turns to follow Roxy to the sword rack, she sees that Charlie and Rufus are locked in a stalemate, neither showing any sign of backing down. Mr. Vance seems to have noticed the same.

"Gentlemen, today's lesson is finished. Lower your weapons."

The whole group is aware of Charlie and Rufus now, and Eggsy can hear muffled comments from some of the other recruits. All of them has seamlessly migrated closer, and now surround the two opponents. Eggsy looks from Charlie to Rufus, more curious than anything as to what set this whole thing off. She'd thought they were friends... But Rufus' face is a cold, unmoving mask, and Charlie, never the best at concealing his emotions, is red with rage. Impatient mutterings ripple though the crowd, because Charlie and Rufus are blocking the exit, and Eggsy is far from the only one dying for a shower and fresh clothes.

She is, however, the only one unable to keep her voice to a disgruntled whisper.

"The fuck's taking you so long, Charlie? Either slit his fucking throat or get the fuck out of the way!"

It happens very quickly, with a yell Charlie forgets everything about Rufus and rounds on her, and she's just as surprised as everyone else when her body acts on its own, managing to parry a blow that her brain only now realised was coming. Charlie seems surprised too, his eyes wide as she takes a step back and raises her sword, waiting for him to strike again.

She sees a flash of insecurity then, but she's too proud to let him get away, and he's too proud to quit, and they both know it. What Charlie lacks in technique, he makes up for in brute strength, and Eggsy realises, after he lunges towards her and just barely misses her head, that she can't afford to be dismissive of brute strength just now. Thankfully, what she lacks in brute strenght, she can make up for in agility.

Their swords clash once more as she ducks, weaves out of the way, and counters his attack. She spins, aiming an attack at his opposite side, but he’s quicker than she anticipates, and meets her mid spin, forcing her backwards against the wall. Before her shoulders can brush up against the panelling, she switches her sword to her left hand, then pulls her right arm back and gives him a right hook, enabling her to duck beneath his sword arm and get away. Charlie turns to pursue her, uttering a loud curse, but before he's able to, both of them are stopped in their tracks by the sound of their last names being shouted in an unmistakeable Scottish accent.

"Hesketh! Unwin!"

The rest of the group has parted off to the sides like the Red Sea before Moses, and Eggsy comes face to face with Merlin, with Charlie a few steps behind. Both of them freeze at the sight. He doesn't appear angry, is Eggsy's first thought, but then she remembers how difficult their commanding officer is to read, unlike other people she could name. Just because he doesn't appear to be, doesn't mean he isn't.

"Sir."

She stops in front of him, coming to as much of a military attention stance as she can manage, still holding the sword. Charlie stops too, but more slowly, as if he’s just now realising how badly he’s fucked up. He looks at her, then at Charlie, then back to her.

"Unwin, explain."

"I... We were told the lesson was finished, Sir. Charlie and Rufus wouldn't stop their duel, and I told him," as this she throws her head slightly backwards, to indicate Charlie, "to either get a fucking move on, or get the fuck out of the way. And then he went after me instead."

Eggsy could have sworn she saw amusement in his eyes, as Merlin turns to Mr. Vance, who gives a nod and a half shrug in corroboration of her story. Charlie is about to loudly protest his innocence, when Merlin cuts him off.

"Hesketh, unless you want to double your punishment, I would suggest keeping your mouth shut."

Charlie seems to pick up on the fact that the tone of Merlin's voice bodes ill for both of them, and doesn't argue. Neither of them speak a word as they follow Merlin down through the floors of the house. Eggsy has enough time to wonder about what kind of punishments Kingsman deals in, before she has to break into a jog to keep up with the sharp silhouette of Merlin’s back.

They trod along a gravel path, moving away from the house, and soon they're in an outdoor area she doesn't recognise, approaching what appears to be a military bunker. Once they’re inside, Eggsy looks around to see that it’s mostly storage, with tents, backpacks, clothing and other assorted military paraphernalia in neat piles. Standard issue weapons and ammo are on racks or in boxes throughout.

“Right then, I want full battledress. You have three minutes.”

Merlin’s voice no longer sounds angry, just deathly calm, and as weird as it sounds Eggsy feels somewhat relieved. She doesn’t doubt for a second that whatever he’s got planned will make her wish she was never born, but battledress she can do. For the next three minutes there's a quiet, calm efficiency about both herself and Charlie, in sharp contrast to the anger that had flared in both of them some minutes previous. Neither of them speak, and the only sounds audible are the rustling of fabric as they put on a different set of clothes, and the clicks of metal as they load and check their weapons. Both of them finish with a few seconds to spare. Merlin nods his approval, then gestures for them to follow him back outside.

The exit from the bunker is on the opposite side from where they entered, and they follow a different path for a few minutes until they reach a clearing where a second path intersects with theirs. Through gaps in the trees, she can see this second path gently curve through the landscape before disappearing in the distance. It looks peaceful, idyllic even, but as Eggsy nervously eyes Merlin, she gets the distinct feeling she's going to think very differently about this landscape before the day is over. He sees her watching him, and for a fleeting instant she sees a smile curl over his lips. It's not very reassuring.

"Eggsy... Charlie...Welcome to the Tintagel Trail, more commonly and less imaginatively known as the Five Mile Route. By the time you're done with training, you'll be able to navigate this area blindfolded. I wasn't planning on taking any of you out here until next week, but since you were both so keen to volunteer..."

Merlin pauses for effect, and Charlie and Eggsy exchange glances.

"Our mission, sir?" Charlie asks, and Eggsy hears the quiver in his voice.

"Your _mission_ , Mr. Hesketh is that you will run along this path, carrying all of your equipment, for as long as I tell you to. Bear in mind that neither of you is in good standing at the moment, so you're probably going to be here a while."

_Running..._ Eggsy thinks to herself.

_Could be worse._

She concluded later that, in fact, it couldn't have been much worse. Running in full combat gear is fine for a while, because you just sort of get on with it. Most of the time, though, you've got a goal, something you have to accomplish and some place you have to get to. When you're literally running in circles indefinitely, however...

She's not sure how much time has actually passed when Merlin finally calls them to a stop, she's only vaguely aware that the idiot is chuckling like this is the most fun he's had all day.

_Fucking sadist_ , Eggsy thinks to herself, while trying to coax her legs and the rest of her limbs to do her bidding. Every inch of her feels numb, and her lungs are burning with every intake of breath. Her only comfort is that Charlie is lying a few feet away, breathing hard, and looking just as bad as she feels.

Merlin stops chuckling as the two of them crawl to their feet, and nods in approval as they stand to attention in front of him, despite both of the shaking like leaves.

"Well done, you're dismissed."

She's so exhausted that how exactly she gets back to the mansion is a bit of a blur, and she earns herself a worried side-eye from Roxy when she collapses on her bunk with a breathless

"Fuck me sideways..."

"Looks like someone beat me to it," Roxy replies dryly, and then, looking up from the book she's reading to meet her gaze,

"And not in a good way."

Eggsy sends her a look that aims to shoot daggers, but in reality probably just tells Roxy that she’d laugh if she had any breath to spare. There’s a pause, as Roxy closes her book and sits up cross-legged on her bed.

"What did you have to do?"

Eggsy exhales deeply, then sits up with careful movements, as if any part of her body could cease to function at any moment. Roxy looks like she wants to laugh, but she manages to keep a concerned look on her face for about half a second, before manic giggling gives her away.

"Not funny, Rox... so not funny."

"Sorry..." Roxy manages through her laughter.

"You look like absolute shit."

"So would you if you'd had to don full combat gear only to run five mile circles around Merlin until he was happy."

Roxy sobers at that, and is quiet for a moment.

"Five miles?" Eggsy flops back on the bed, making an affirmative sound, before adding.

"Yeah, times... I don't even know, I stopped counting after one and a half laps around that damn trail."

She stretches, closes her eyes and feels the first flood of exhaustion dissipate. She feels strangely calm, balanced in a way she can't remember having been for years. She tries to remember if this was what the Marines felt like, but just as soon realises that she can't remember. It feels like the Marines were a different life... a different her.

Opening her eyes, she stands and heads for the showers. The air outside is cool and smells of earth and rain when she ventures outside again half an hour later. Jogging across the gravel, she ducks into the doorway leading to the kennels, still feeling guilty that J.B has had to spend all day there.

For the time being, they're allowed to keep their dogs in the kennels for part of the day, since the pups are too young to be left alone, and having puppies around during some of the exercises is not really conductive to anything.   
The woman in charge, Rae, greets her warmly as she enters, while Eggsy apologises profusely for not collecting J.B sooner. Rae shrugs it off, and gives her a knowing half-smile, opening the door for her. Eggsy realizes that her and Charlie's little walk in the woods must be common knowledge.

Despite being a top secret organization, word certainly travels fast around Kingsman. She finds J.B in his playpen, and he comes running towards her as she climbs in to get him, playfully attacking her shoes and barking happily.

"Hey, there... you miss me?"

She picks him up to give him a cuddle, and he immediately begins nudging her, licking her face and making affectionate little grunting sounds. After a few more minutes in the playpen, she manages to wrangle him into his harness and put him on a leash. Once on the leash, J.B is obedience itself, and he follows her easily, running outside at a perfect three feet distance from her - for about three seconds, until he’s hopelessly distracted by some tall blades of grass on the side of the path. She doesn’t mind, and just chuckles as he practically dives into the foliage. That’s when she sees them, two figures suddenly cast in sharp relief against an illuminated doorway.

She recognizes Merlin, his tall frame and bald head is easily distinguishable. The other she’s less certain of, but judging from height, build and the white hair, she assumes it’s Arthur. She’s only seen Arthur once, briefly, after arriving on their first day, before she knew Kingsman was going to try its best to kill them all. He seemed to instill a hushed respect in many of her fellow recruits, including Charlie, and Rufus had told them later that there were a fair few rumours going around as to Arthur's once meteoric rise within Kingsman. Rumours that spoke of cunning, and treason. In short, Eggsy thought to herself, exactly the kind of man Charlie might look up to.

She hears the soft muttering of conversation, but she's too far away to make out what’s being said. She's probably better off ignoring it, but the sight before her is more than enough to pique her curiosity, and she wonders if they could have been discussing Harry. If they were...

She breaks into a run, J.B following suit, and they reach the door just in time for her to get two fingers between the door and the frame to keep it from closing. She winces at the pain, and carefully maneuvers herself so she's able to see through the crack. The room inside is clearly an office of some sort, brightly lit, but empty. Eggsy opens the door further, and slips inside. Crouching, she lets the door slide shut behind her, and listens intently for sounds. All she hears is J.B's panting, and she looks to the side to see him lying spread-eagled on the floor, looking accusingly at her.

"You're such a drama queen." She mutters, before petting him and whispering 'good boy' and 'stay here'.

Looping his leash around a nearby office chair, she stands and makes her way further into the building. The hallway outside the office is darker, but thankfully just as quiet. She hesitates for a moment, considering her options. This is a very bad idea - she could just walk out, and pretend never having seen Merlin and Arthur, and never having been intrigued by their muffled discussion. She should just walk out... But hadn't she promised herself just this morning to find out what happened to Harry? He could be here somewhere, and Arthur and Merlin, they'd know... Even if he was dead (and her mind balked at the possibility), maybe she could overhear something about how, and why.

"His MRI shows no signs of concussion... no direct brain trauma at all."

Merlin's voice sounds clearly from a door cracked open to her left, and she almost jumps at the sound. Carefully, she inches her way closer, until she’s able to glimpse the room inside. She sees Merlin, his back turned, and Arthur, whose eyes travel slowlyfrom the man in the hospital bed to fix on Merlin.

“How much longer can he be out?”

Eggsy carefully positions herself so that she's able to get a glimpse of the man in the hospital bed, and even if all she can make out is his long frame and a mop of brown hair, she knows she's found Harry. 

"That's the million dollar question. We don't know what he was exposed to in there..." Merlin replies from inside, and Eggsy makes herself as small and invisible as she can, straining to hear every detail.

"What about Harry's footage? It didn't stream to his home terminal?"

"Encrypted and uncrackable. If and when he comes 'round, you might want to have a word with him about sharing his passwords."

_What he was exposed to...?_ What the hell did that mean, what kind of mission had Harry been on? And if they had footage of it, why would Harry make sure it was encrypted? She assumed having footage of missions at all would be so Kingsman HQ would be able to review it, and figure out, among other things, what their agents had been exposed to when the agents themselves were unconscious. Her eyes travel back to Arthur, and she can clearly see that he's not happy with Merlin's comment. He has that same dangerous glint in his eye that Dean sometimes gets, but she knows Dean would have mouthed off and perhaps thrown something in response. Arthur doesn't. In fact, he doesn't say anything, except,

"Let me know when his condition changes," before moving to leave the room.

Eggsy hurries into an abandoned examination room across the hall, and hugs the wall just to the left of the door. Arthur hesitates for a moment in the hallway, and looks around, like he can sense that someone has just been there, but much to Eggsy's relief, he doesn't investigate. She waits until the sound of his footsteps has faded completely, before slowly pushing the door open. The door to Harry's room is now closed, and she finds herself having to take a deep breath before pushing down the handle. Merlin could probably send her home for this. No one in Kingsman has told her anything about Harry since she saw him last, she wouldn't have even known he'd been on a mission if it weren't for Harry telling her himself... But what was she supposed to do, he was her mentor, and the only one of the knights who had landed himself in a coma at the start of the selection process, leaving her with no one to back her up if she needed it.

She pulled the door open and stepped into the room.

"Is he gonna be alright?"

Merlin looks up from his clipboard, and doesn't even seem remotely surprised to see her. Eggsy, in turn, isn't sure whether to be terrified or reassured by that.

"We need to have patience, Eggsy. But there's hope, okay?"

She felt a brief flare of anger, and the urge to shout at Merlin that his words were no help whatsoever, she wanted to shout at Harry for being dumb enough to land himself in a coma, leaving her in this viper’s nest alone…   
Instead of raising her voice, she bit down on her lip and asked:

“What happened?”

“You know I can’t tell you, Eggsy.”

Eggsy took a deep breath.

“I don’t care about the specifics, just tell me why he’s in a coma.”

Merlin put his clipboard down on a side table, and looked her up and down, before seemingly coming to a decision.

“Like I just told Arthur…”

He gave her a pointed look, accompanied by a small smile.

“Harry was in an explosion. And I couldn’t tell you the specifics even if I wanted to, because apart from that, I have no idea what happened."

She was tempted to press him about how and why exactly Harry had been in that explosion, but the frustration in his voice kept her mouth shut. Best not to push her luck. Instead she asked, after a pause:

"Why would Harry encrypt his video feed? Isn't the point of having one to show someone else what happened if you're unable to report back yourself?"

Eggsy knew she was taking a huge gamble by betraying that she'd been eavesdropping, but she was also genuinely curious, and when she saw the slight quirk of Merlin's lips, she knew she'd judged it right.

"Ordinarily, yes... Ordinarily a handler would have access to both a live stream and the archive footage, but..." he hesitated, but then his lips turned upwards into a knowing smile.

"As you might have discovered by now, Harry's not exactly fond of following protocol."

Merlin threw Harry's unconscious form a sideways glance, before continuing:

"I don't know why Harry encrypted his home terminal, but I trust him to have good reason."

Eggsy followed Merlin's glance and let her eyes rest on Harry for a long moment.

"So, what happens now?"

Merlin shrugged.

"We wait..."

He paused, and looked at her, before continuing.

"If I were you I'd try to focus on making it through the tests... make him proud."

 

In that moment Eggsy wasn't sure if she had it in her to make Harry, or anyone, proud, but she nodded, and didn't say another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me 7 months. Fuck everything. I̶'̶m̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶.


	5. Skeleton in the cupboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy and Rufus overhears a nighttime conversation that lends credence to a Kingsman legend, and Harry awakens from his coma.

She's been at Kingsman HQ for approximately three months, and wonders if the training is _supposed_ to feel like it gets progressively worse, or if that's just her experience. She's at a point where she easily manages to get in trouble twice in one day, which she, if she's honest, considered an all-time low.

First, she'd disregarded a direct order from Merlin and carried J.B through parts of their training course, because instead of picking a sensible dog (like Roxy), she'd picked a little hellraiser with stubby legs and an attitude. Her punishment was two laps around the Tintagel trail. But she'd broken the rules, so she could accept that.

The second source of punishment was harder to swallow; because once again the instigator hadn't been her, it had been Charlie...

The idiot had decided it would be amusing to douse her with a bucket of water as she slept, and watch, snickering, as she panicked, her brain instantly connecting water to their first night in the dormitory.

And, despite Roxy trying to talk her down, telling her it wasn't worth it, she had punched Charlie squarely in the face.

Roxy was wrong. It was definitely, _definitely_ worth it.

But that split second satisfaction had now given way to a seemingly never-ending frustration, as she surveyed the countless rifles and pistols that she was fairly certain made up the entire Kingsman armoury. She'd likely spend a week cleaning them all; at least that was what it felt like.

She doubted it would take as much as a week, because surprisingly enough to her and everyone else, she had company. Rufus had seen fit to switch sides during the group's night time altercation, and had done his bit in order to make sure that Charlie now sported a fetching black eye.

_Why_ Rufus had suddenly decided to take the side of the underdog pleb against the leader of his own pack, she didn't know – but she planned to find out. 

 

«So, what’s the situation with you and Charlie? »

Eggsy looked sideways at Rufus, who was sitting beside her, and raised one eyebrow in question. When Rufus didn’t answer straight away, she went back to cleaning the rifle in her lap.

"You mean aside from the fact that he's an asshole?"

Eggsy shrugged.

" _That_ didn't seem to bother you much until last night..." She remarked, carefully polishing an invisible smudge off the barrel.

 

"I've had it with his attitude... he thinks he's so much better than everyone.”

“Said the Eton graduate with a direct path into a board of directors’ chair whenever he damn well pleases...”

She looked up and gave him a cautious smile. She was mostly joking, well…not really. Rufus _was_ an Eton graduate, and his father was CEO of one of the most successful investment companies in London, which meant that Rufus could, in theory, join the family business whenever he wanted. But she didn’t mean for it to sound insulting. She liked Rufus because, as opposed to Charlie and Digby, he'd treated her with common courtesy whenever they’d sparred or trained together. He also didn't appear to be joined at the hip with Charlie, although he'd been a part of Charlie’s entourage from the get-go.

“Well, alright, yes, but Charlie’s father is a _baron.”_

Rufus pronounced the word with distaste.

“Fancy.” She replies, as if it means nothing to her. Which, to be fair, it doesn’t.

After arriving at Kingsman, she’s come to understand the role that the aristocracy has played in the founding of the agency, and she'd be an idiot if she didn't notice the importance that some members place on family pedigree.

But Roxy hardly ever talks about it, although she's the daughter of a duke, and Eggsy's been far too busy learning the things she actually needs to get through everyday training to care about which part of the nobility ranks where in relation to the rest.       

"Exactly. Titles mean fuck-all to most people these days..."

"Except when they do." Eggsy finishes grimly, thinking of Charlie's satisfied smirk.

"He didn't use to be this bad, you know..." Rufus says, after they've been polishing gun parts in silence for a while. 

"It's weird how wankers get worse over time, isn't it? My stepdad was decent at first too."     

"Everyone is a lady or a gentleman until they prove otherwise."

"Huh?"

"Just something my mom used to say..." Rufus added with a shrug."I think it's true, don't you?"

"I wouldn't know, I've never known a gentleman in my life."

That's almost completely true, Eggsy thinks to herself while giving Rufus what she hopes is a suitably devil-may-care grin. She knows Harry... Harry's a gentleman, isn't he? It's still a bit of a foreign concept to her, but Harry's the only one in her life that comes even close to matching the description.

 

It's pitch black outside when they finish for the day, and they carefully make their way back across the grounds. The Kingsman manor looks very inviting, the golden glow of hundreds of lights emanating from the windows. Eggsy's still awestruck by the sight, and as she walks up the gravel pathway, she wonders what it would be like to grow up in a house like this, and if the original owner was one of those founding members Harry had told her about.

She takes the steps at a leisurely pace, and walks across the entrance hall. It's odd coming back so late in the evening, everything is so quiet. She feels more familiar with the house now; she's able to navigate most of it without getting lost. The hallways are becoming familiar, the different pathways...from the dormitory to the breakfast hall, the back stairs down to the kitchen, the steps to the classroom, the various training rooms. She knows this house. She's not sure if that's a good thing or not... most of the time she's hours or, if she's lucky, a day or two away from being sent home.

She catches up to Rufus on the second story landing. He's standing very quiet, as if listening for something, and she automatically slows her pace until she's standing next to him. Not sure if it's safe to talk, she raises an eyebrow in question, and Rufus replies by placing his index finger across his lips and nods down the hallway to their left.

It's one of the few she's yet to have any business in. Their quarters are on the right hand side of the landing, and she's imagined that the rooms on the opposite side would be similar, spare rooms or sleeping quarters for the agents or the house's other staff.

She's just about to ask Rufus what on earth is going on, when she hears voices coming from one of the rooms, and now she notices the narrow stream of light from a door left ajar.

"You cannot be serious."

The voice sounds familiar, and Eggsy strains to make out who the speaker is. She can't be completely sure, but she thinks it sounds like the doctor from their medical exam, Elaine.

"Do you have any idea...any _concept_ of what you're suggesting? This is against every code of conduct, every code of _honour_ we have. It would mean the end of the organization."

"Surely not," another voice replies, and this one she recognises almost instantly.

Arthur.

By the way he stiffens next to her, she can tell the Rufus has recognised it too.

"You would take an international organization based on highly specialized skills, state-of-the-art technology and with a history going back a hundred years, and turn us into common thugs? That's your idea of a legacy?"

Elaine's voice has risen to the point where they can easily hear her from the hallway.

“You disregard the power it would grant us. If we ally with him every country in the world will be open to us, no more months of negotiations, no need for diplomacy, no more need for secrecy… we could be out in the open, known as one of the most powerful organizations in the world. That’s the legacy I want, and the legacy I’ll have.”

“Secrecy and discretion has been our trade for the past hundred years… Take that away, and there is no Kingsman. You’ll make us nothing more than the standing army of a man who thinks he’s God. That’s not a legacy, Chester, that’s treason.”

“You’re hardly one to speak of treason.”

“What I did wasn’t treason, it was worse. Especially since I did it for you.”

She hears laughter, and while she realizes that it must be Arthur's, she's instantly reminded of Dean. She can vividly imagine his expression as he laughs in her mother's face out of spite, and before she knows it, she's taken a step towards the door. Only Rufus taking a firm grip on her upper arm stops her from marching into the room.

 

As she spins around, ready to snap at Rufus to let her go, they hear movement from inside, and with a terrified look, first at the door, then at each other, they're suddenly perfectly in sync. Rufus' grip changes from her arm to her hand as he pulls her away from the door and breaks into a run, with her following suit.

Rufus leads the way, and Eggsy realises that she has nothing on him when it comes to knowing the house. She's never been in half of these darkened hallways before. After one last sprint, they end up in the library, and she bolts the door shut as Rufus collapses on the floor, cursing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, we are _so_ fucked!"

Ignoring him, Eggsy lays her body flat against the door, her ear pressed hard against the panelling. She's prepared to hear pounding footsteps and the sound of the whole house being awakened, but the only sound she hears is her own heart pounding in her ears.

She turns towards Rufus, who looks like he can't decide whether to make a run for it or cry, and shakes her head to indicate that she can't hear any pursuers.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" She asks forcefully.

Rufus shakes his head.

"I don't know."

Eggsy lets herself sink to the floor, leaning her back against the door and taking slow, deliberate breaths to calm herself. Rufus mimics her, sitting down on the carpeted floor further into the room.

"But seriously," Eggsy repeats after a while,

"What the _fuck_?!?"

Rufus laughs quietly, the kind of panicked laugh you do when you’ve just escaped something unpleasant.  

"Damn... And I thought those things about Arthur were just rumours."

Eggsy notices that he lowers his voice without even being aware, as if Arthur was going to appear at the mention of his name.

"What things?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Us plebs aren't well informed." she replies, giving him a wink.

Rufus gives her a conspiratory grin and sits up straighter, beckoning her closer with one hand. She makes sure the door is locked, then joins him on the carpet.

"Now, bear in mind that everything I'm about to tell you is rumours and hearsay. _Everything_. Got it?"

Eggsy nods eagerly, thinking that a story with that kind of disclaimer has to be good.

“When he was first recruited to Kingsman, Chester King – that’s Arthur’s real name – was given the code name Galahad.”

He pauses for effect, and is not disappointed. Eggsy’s mouth drops open, and Rufus grins.

“Now, Galahad the elder was one of the best knights Kingsman had seen up until then. Did all the right things, served loyally for years...even married Arthur's daughter. He was the undisputed crown prince."

"So what happened?"

Rufus shrugs.

"He got greedy, tired of waiting for the top job. So he killed Arthur... at least that's the rumour."

"And he got away with it?!?"

"Nobody could prove anything. And when the new Arthur ascended, most people were smart enough not to ask questions."

"Most people?"

"Yeah. A few did... but they were never heard from again."

"People don't just vanish into thin air, Rufus."

Rufus fixes her with a hard stare.

"No, they don't."

 

There's a long pause as Eggsy processes this information. She feels like she's just jumped into a snake pit, or perhaps only now realizing she's in one.

"Well, shit... Merlin wasn't kidding with the whole 'most dangerous job interview in the world' thing, was he? You might survive the training, but you're screwed if the boss doesn't like what you're up to."

"Welcome to Kingsman."

Eggsy doesn't respond, except with a barely audible 'fuck'.

"You think it's safe?" Rufus nods towards the door.

Eggsy gets up and presses her ear against the door.

"Can't hear anything."

Very carefully, with her heart pounding in her ears, she moves her hand towards the handle and lets it rest there for a long moment before she slowly pushes it down. Still moving painfully slowly she cracks the door open just enough to see through it.

The hallway is dark and empty, and she breathes a huge sigh of relief.

"All clear." She whispers, half turning back towards Rufus.

He gets up and starts to move towards her, but seemingly thinks of something and stops.

"You go first." He says, and when it looks like she's about to argue, he adds:

"Less chance of getting caught alone."

She thinks for a second, then nods and opens the door enough that she can slip into the hallway.

 

The silence is deafening and the hallway smells of dust. As she takes the first few hesitant steps, she's convinced that Arthur is going to manifest out of thin air and throw her out of Kingsman right then and there, or worse. But when nothing happens, and nothing is audible except for her muffled footsteps she relaxes a bit, and begins to make her way carefully back to their dormitory.

She skilfully avoids the main thoroughfares, although she knows that at this hour the chance of meeting anyone is slim even there. The story she's just heard stays on her mind, though Rufus was quick to precede it with a warning that it was based on rumours. Even if that was the case, Rufus seemed to believe there was some truth to it at least. And seeing as he is such an idol of Charlie's, she has no problem seeing Arthur as a schemer of the worst sort. But, she reminds herself, scheming is one thing, cold blooded murder is another.

Rounding a corner she sees the door to her dormitory and breathes a sigh of relief. But her breath catches in her throat, when she sees someone watching her from the upstairs gallery. The moment that the two of them lock eyes seems to stretch out into infinity, and Eggsy doesn't dare to move nor breathe. There is no way Dr. Woodville could have missed her. She half expects the older woman to raise the alarm, and begins to imagine the disappointment on Harry's features when he wakes up to find she's been kicked out.

But Elaine Woodville remains silent, and completely still, watching her intently with an expression Eggsy cannot read. She thinks she can see the ghost of a smile playing around the older woman's lips, but before she has the nerve to speak up Elaine seems to melt back into the shadows.

For a moment Eggsy isn't sure what to think. _Surely_ Elaine must have seen her. So what reason could she have to let her pass undetected? She doesn't know Elaine well at all, but it seems unlikely that she'd wait to expose her until the following morning. That kind of mockery was more Arthur or Charlie's style than Elaine's...at least that's what she would have thought.

 

It turns out Eggsy's hunch is right. The next morning comes with no sinister revelations of any kind regarding her nightly exploits, and she and Rufus exchange a handful of grateful glances for that fact.

They receive their scores back on one of the written tests after breakfast, and Eggsy's surprised to find she hasn't done too badly at all. Roxy scored a couple of points more, but she doesn't mind that. What's infinitely more satisfying is that Charlie scored less, and also that she manages to stop herself from gloating. In fact, she doesn't say one word to him all morning, although if the looks they send each other could kill, they would both have dropped dead before breakfast.  

It’s a quiet day, which Eggsy and the others have long since learned must mean that Merlin has something planned for them that evening. They’re not wrong. Once darkness falls they're called out to the bunker and arrive to find Merlin holding an assortment of brightly coloured gas balloons. It's a testament to how much they all both fear and respect him that no one laughs at the sight. Next to him the weapons master, Charles Vance, is standing, a pair of sniper rifles on his back.

Eggsy and Roxy exchange glances and crooked grins. Eggsy thinks to herself that this could be good.

"Good evening," Merlin begins, as Mr. Vance begins to walk along the line, stopping and passing a rifle to Rufus. Roxy is passed over, and Charlie confidently takes a half-step forward in anticipation. Mr. Vance looks at him for a moment, before handing the rifle to Eggsy instead.

"Let's see how Miss Unwin fares, shall we?" Mr. Vance murmurs gently in Charlie's direction when it looks as if the latter is about to protest. Charlie manages to hold his tongue, but the look he gives Eggsy is murderous. Eggsy ignores him, her hands firmly gripping the rifle.

When that’s done, Merlin begins his own walk along the line, handing out the balloons. Roxy, Digby, Piers and Nathaniel each reluctantly take the brightly coloured balloon they’re presented with.  

Finally, Merlin produces two binoculars and tosses one each to Charlie and Hugo. Charlie looks possibly even more offended, while Hugo catches his with a shrug.

"Tonight's exercise will test your marksmanship, as well as your ability to work together. Eggsy, Rufus... these," Merlin gestures at the balloons, "are your targets. Your mission is to take out as many as possible. Roxy, Nathaniel, Piers, Digby...your job is to make it difficult for them. You'll have the entire forest at your disposal. Hugo and Charlie, you'll be spotters. Your job is to make the conditions as good as you can for your sniper. Hugo, you're with Rufus. Charlie, you're with Eggsy."

"You're going to trust the chav with a fucking sniper rifle?!" Charlie blurts out.

Merlin, Mr. Vance, and all the recruits turn to look at him.

"Lara Croft here is going to bloody kill someone!"

All the recruits snicker. Roxy turns to Eggsy and raises an eyebrow while mouthing 'Lara Croft?', which makes Eggsy grin broader than is wise.

"That's _Lady_ Lara Croft, Charlie. Get your titles straight." Rufus calls from further down the line, before he catches Eggsy’s eye and winks.

The mood shifts quickly as Merlin approaches Charlie and looks him up and down with distaste.

“Hesketh, did you not hear what I just said?”

His voice is calm, without a trace of emotion, which only serves to make him more unnerving.

“Whether Unwin’s the best shot Kingsman’s ever seen or doesn’t know one end of the rifle from the other is irrelevant. It’s _your_ job to make sure she hits whatever target is in range, and if I were you I’d thank my lucky stars she’s the better shot of you two. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Charlie mumbles in response, and Eggsy thinks that he sounds like he’s genuinely a bit scared of Merlin.

“Suit up!” Merlin bellows, as he takes a few steps back.

There's the usual mad scramble for equipment before they're back in line, and Merlin instructs the targets to move out. He waits another ten minutes before instructing the snipers and their spotters to do the same.

Eggsy heads out towards a clearing she remembers from a previous exercise, with Charlie grumbling behind her.

"We're never going to get line of sight out here; we need to move further south." Charlie protests.

"None of the targets are going to move south, Charlie. There are too many open spaces; they'll worry about being too exposed."

"And I'm telling you, you're not going to get a clear shot in here."

"Why don't you let me worry about that?"

 

Eggsy finds the vantage point as she remembered it, and sets up her rifle amidst the vegetation. Even with night vision, which the targets don't have as far as she knows, the gilly suits will make them very difficult to see. Charlie continues his complaints, until Eggsy reminds him:

"Christ, Charlie will you shut up? We'll be here all night if you keep going on like this."

 

An hour or so later, Eggsy catches herself thinking that if he wasn't such a dick, Charlie could be pretty entertaining. The forest around them is quiet, and they've spent their time alternating between Charlie bemoaning everything in existence, and the two of them trading barbs back and forth.

“New target, 800 meters.” Charlie is suddenly all business, and Eggsy grips the rifle tighter, pressing her cheek against the stock and looks through the scope. It looks like Roxy’s found her way into their part of the forest, and Eggsy’s mouth quirks upwards in a grin. It’s going to be a pleasure taking Roxy out of the game.

“You know, it's unbelievable. You're still here...lingering like some big, steaming shit that just won't flush.”

Charlie’s voice is like silk, but his tactic is so obvious that it’s easy to ignore him.

“Roger that. Target identified. And how about you shut the fuck up?”

“Positive discrimination...that's what it is. It's like those fucking state school kids who get into Oxford on C grades...because their mum is a one-legged lesbian.”

She registers the rustle of the forest floor as Charlie kicks it in frustration.

  
“Will you stop, you'll get us both kicked out with your whining. And you don't know fuck all about my grades.”

A mention of getting kicked out brings Charlie back to the task at hand, but he can't resist one last barb.

“Forgive me, I'm sure you're highly educated. Fire when ready.”

Eggsy focuses her attention on the balloon hovering over Roxy's head. It's got a teddy bear on it, with a large heart on its chest. Eggsy aims for the heart, takes a deep breath, checks wind speed and direction, and slowly exhales. When her lungs are empty, she pulls the trigger. The balloon pops, and she hears a shriek and then a curse coming from Roxy.

“Sorry, Rox!” Eggsy shouts across the glade, receiving an exasperated “Dammit, Eggsy!” in return, as well as an elbow in the ribs from Charlie.

“How's that for positive discrimination?” She turns her head to Charlie and winks, and is met with another muttered curse.

 

Eggsy decides to move her position, not trusting that they’ll get lucky more than once, and Charlie follows, still grumbling about how he could have easily taken that shot as well.

They move slower now, making more of an effort to be quiet. Eggsy assumes that Rufus will have managed to pick off one or more of the targets by now too, and it follows that whatever targets remain will be on edge. Heading out towards the perimeter of the forest, she remembers that there’s a small creek and a bridge nearby. It’s a gamble, but at this point everything is. There’s two targets at most still roaming the forest, and whether they stay put somewhere or trek around trying to track them down, they still risk missing them both.

Eggsy chooses to wait, and Charlie oddly enough doesn’t argue when she picks the best spot she can find overlooking the bridge and settles in. He knows the odds aren’t in their favour one way or the other.

They wait in silence now, only breathing and listening to the forest around them. Charlie has apparently run out of bad things to call her, and Eggsy is starting to wish they could just get this exercise over with. She's imagining how good a long, steaming shower would feel, when Charlie's voice sounds in her ear.

"New target, 500 meters."

500 meters would be a cake walk in open terrain, but by her own choice she no longer has that luxury.

It's fine, she tells herself. You can do it.

Through the scope she recognizes Nathaniel's gait. He seems nervous, like he's being hunted by people actually trying to kill him, not just shoot a balloon above his head. The string is wrapped so tightly around one of his hands that it looks like it's restricting blood flow, and he's moving very slowly. She almost thinks she can hear his exhausted panting, but that's got to be her imagination. On closer examination, all she can hear is her own heart pounding in her ears.

The wind rustles in the leaves, and Charlie whispers another 'fire when ready'. She focuses on relaxing, controlling her breathing, and ignoring the thought of seeing a flare signalling the end of the exercise through the trees.

Nathaniel is coming closer. Through her scope she can see him eyeing his surroundings carefully, but he still hasn't seen them. He moves slowly down the path and out onto the bridge. Very carefully, Eggsy takes aim and moves her finger to the trigger. The sound of Nathaniel's footsteps echo as he steps onto the bridge as she takes another slow, steady breath.

The shot rings out in the silence; Nathaniel lets out a very unmanly shriek, loses his footing and tumbles into the creek.

"Nice shot." Charlie snickers, and he and Eggsy watches in silence as Nathaniel gets up, curses, then slinks away through the trees.

It isn't long after that a red flare lights up the night sky, signalling the end of the exercise, and Eggsy and Charlie start the hike back towards the bunker. She's nervous of the pending result, but grateful to be off the ground and out of the mud. Charlie trudges next to her, quiet and pensive, probably worried about the results himself.

Only Merlin greets them on their return, and Eggsy notices that Nathaniel and Piers are nowhere to be seen. The mood is solemn, and they clean off their gear in silence. Eggsy looks cautiously around at the five others, exchanges glances with Roxy and Rufus, and all three of them appear to be thinking the same thing.

They knew this was a selection, that in the end there would be only one candidate left, but it was like they'd all forgotten about it on an everyday basis. And every time someone was sent home or...disappeared it became so obvious.

"Piers wasn't even last..." Rufus mutters as they dismantle their rifles. Eggsy nods, as if to say 'I know', and she wonders what kind of criteria Merlin, or whoever is responsible for their selection in the end, was _really_ after tonight.

 

 

 

Harry Hart awakens from his coma with a raging headache. The world around him is a haze at first, but he's quick enough to recognize his surroundings. He's become rather familiar with them over the years, after all. His body is sluggish, and not nearly as quick to respond as he's accustomed to, but he trusts his normal faculties will return soon enough. The room is pleasantly dark and quiet, and he begins to slowly piece together what happened.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of sharp, angry footsteps outside, which was unusual since Merlin, who was the only one who would wander the hallways at this hour, walked as quietly as a cat.

"I _cannot_ believe you insulted Charles Hesketh in front of all his peers and then forced him to be a spotter for that gutter-rat Unwin." 

Ah. Arthur. That explained it.

"Mr. Vance was in charge of the selection, Sir." He hears Merlin respond, calm as always.

"Mr. Vance selects who you ask him to." Arthur protested, his voice growing louder with each word.

"Mr. Vance selects the recruits he deems most suitable based on their results. With all due respect, Sir, you're fortunate that your recruit is still here. If I wanted to insult Charlie Hesketh, I would have mentioned his weapons' scores."

"His weapons' scores are fine, the problem is that you're partial to that mutt Galahad dragged in."

"Charlie's scores have consistently been in the 270s, while Eggsy and Rufus both consistently score in the 290s, no matter what kind of weapon we throw at them. The numbers speak for themselves. Now, if you want to accuse me of favouritism, by all means...we have a procedure for that, as I'm sure you're well aware. But if you expect that to go anywhere, you'd better get your facts straight first. Now, if you'll excuse me...sir."  

 

Moments later he hears footsteps going in two different directions, one set stalking away and one softly approaching. Then Merlin enters, and Harry hears the deep intake of breath and sees his shoulders relaxing in silhouette against the far wall.

"Why Rupert, I'm surprised. Usually I'm the insubordinate one." He quips, and watches as Merlin crosses the room in two steps.

"Dammit, Harry!"

The exclamation is a familiar one, and Harry manages a half-smile in response.

"I was beginning to worry about you." Merlin continues more softly, and Harry feels the pang of a guilty conscience but is just as quick to shrug it off.

"No rest for the wicked. How long was I out?"

"Almost three months."

" _Months?"_

"Aye."

He sits up slowly, running both hands over his face and realises that his beard in long enough to comb his fingers through. It's an unsettling physical corroboration of what Merlin just said.

"Damn. What happened?"

"You tell me, you encrypted your recording..." Merlin replies, while looking at him accusingly over black rimmed spectacles.

"You've never let that stop you before."

Merlin smiles, as if to say _of course not,_ and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Professor Arnold had an implant embedded just behind his ear, which was remotely triggered to explode. I'm working on the final steps of the trace now..."

The two of them exchange glances, and Harry quickly asks

"Do you think it's connected to the other one?"

Merlin holds his eyes for a moment, then sighs and looks away, rubbing the back of his head.

"Harry, you don't know for sure there _is_ another one. Arthur's scar appears similar, yes, but..."

"Oh, come off it! You cannot convince me that two identically shaped, identically placed scars are a coincidence, Rupert. Not in this case. We need to find out how they're connected..."

"I know, Harry. It's just...if Arthur is compromised..."

"Then this is the deepest treason Kingsman has ever experienced... You don't have to tell me."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through the unfamiliar length of his hair. Changing the subject, he asks:

"How's Eggsy doing?"

A small smile appears on Merlin’s face at the mention.

"Very well, and angering Arthur more and more with each passing day."

"Good." Harry replies, the edge in his voice betraying that he's just as pleased about Arthur's chagrin as Eggsy's results.

The two of them exchange telling glances. Suspicious as they are, it's still difficult to imagine that Arthur intentionally threw away the life of a Kingsman agent and put the entire agency in danger, over an unseen prize.

 

The following morning the sombre mood still lingers over Kingsman HQ, so when Merlin approaches her after breakfast, Eggsy expects the worst. Instead, she's told that Harry wants to see her. She glances up at Merlin, uncertain, trying to see whether he's joking, when he gives her a nod and says:

"Go on. You know where to find him..."

 

On her way through the house she feels as if she's floating. She's been at Kingsman for so long without any real support from Harry that the thought of having her mentor back feels strange and exhilarating. But a horrifying thought strikes her as she enters the hallway leading to his room. What if he’s disappointed in her? What if her results aren’t what he expected, what if she isn’t good enough?

She pushes down on the handle and opens the door just as Harry emerges from a doorway on the opposite side of the room. They both startle, and Harry sounds exasperated when he asks:

"Ever heard of knocking?"

Eggsy is momentarily caught off guard by the sight of him. It’s as if she’s forgotten just how tall he is, and just how handsome he looks despite being much older than her. And the fact that he’s wearing bloody pyjamas with a red robe over top does not make it any better.

"Only when I'm casing a place to rob,” she quips before she can stop herself.

Harry’s response is a perfectly arched eyebrow, but she can see there’s also an unmistakable smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. To keep herself from getting lost in the details of his face, she changes the subject.

"Merlin said you wanted to see me?"

“I hope J.B’s training is going as well as yours is,” he says with a nod towards the pug, who is busy sniffing the legs of a nearby bed.

“J.B,” Eggsy calls, in order to get his attention. J.B obediently stops and looks at her.

“Sit.”

J.B responds before she's finished uttering the syllable, and plops down right where he is.

Eggsy looks towards Harry, raising her eyebrow in question, and is given a small smile in return.

"Good boy, J.B. Heel." she continues, and J.B immediately gets up, circling her once before finding his place on her right side.

She looks down to make sure J.B is where he's supposed to, before meeting Harry's eyes again.

"Congratulations on making it to the final six candidates. Your test results were even better than I could have hoped."

His words make her feel as if something inside her explodes, in the best possible way. It's such a relief to hear him say it that she's unable to keep a broad grin off her face. Then there's a knock on the door and she quickly schools her expression, just as Harry points a finger at the door and gives her a look that clearly says 'See? This is how a gentleman behaves'. She rolls her eyes, just as Harry says 'come in', and turns around to see Merlin enter.

"Eggsy, I need to have a private conversation. You're dismissed."

She's about to start walking when Harry interrupts.

"Nonsense. Let her observe. Might learn a thing or two." Harry says, throwing her a sideways glance.

"As you wish. Take a look at this."

A screen emerges in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere, and Merlin presses a few buttons on his tablet. A recording showing the image of a man Eggsy doesn’t recognize starts playing. But she recognizes the arm clad in an immaculate suit, the hand bearing a signet ring and the voice that says:

_For God's sake, I've barely touched you. Man up!_

Eggsy squints at the screen as the scene in front of her becomes blurry. For a brief moment she thinks she sees various colours float in the air on screen, but before she can ask what’s happening there’s a loud boom, and everything is blood and sparks and smoke.

"Fucking hell! That is rank, Harry…”

She turns towards her mentor, who looks at her with amusement.

“You blew up his head? It's a bit much, innit?"

"Actually,” Merlin interrupts “the explosion was caused by an implant in his neck. Here, under the scar."

He points at the now frozen screen with a pen.

"Did my hardware pick up the signal that triggered it?" Harry asks from the side.

"Fortunately, yes. Unfortunately, the IP address I traced it to...is registered to the Valentine Corporation."

"That's not much of a lead. He has millions of employees worldwide."

"That Richmond Valentine is a genius." Eggsy offers, and when the two men both look at her with blank expressions, she adds:

"Did you not see his announcement today?"

Eager, she grabs Merlin's tablet without asking permission and quickly finds a video of the press conference that had been that main topic of conversation over breakfast.

 

_We each spend on average $2,000 a year... on cell phone and internet usage. It gives me great pleasure to announce... those days are over. As of tomorrow...every man, woman and child can claim a free SIM card...compatible with any cell phone, any computer...and utilize my communications network for free. Free calls...free internet...for everyone. Forever._

All three of them remain quiet for a moment, before Harry remarks:

"Valentine's assistant has the same implant scar. I think Mr. Valentine and I should have a tête–à–tête."

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Eggsy looks from one to the other, but she's unable to interpret what it means.

"He's having a gala dinner next week. I'll get you an invitation." Merlin says matter-of-factly, and continues, "You need to be careful, though. Since you've been out, hundreds of VIPs have gone missing. No ransom notes, exactly like Professor Arnold."

"Then I suggest you make my alias somebody worth kidnapping."

Merlin nods, and leaves the room. Silence falls, and Eggsy looks as Harry, who seems absorbed in the video footage.

 

"Are you gonna let yourself get kidnapped?" She asks, in what she hopes is a suitably light and curious tone, turning away from Harry and the screen, moving to sit on the hospital bed.

Harry doesn't take his eyes off the screen, which is now playing the footage from his glasses on loop. He doesn't answer for a long while either, long enough that Eggsy starts to wonder if she's said something wrong.

"I might." he says, eventually.

"But I hope to avoid it. There are other ways to retrieve information... besides, it takes considerable skill to outwit a Kingsman agent."

Her eyebrows draw together in a frown, and she looks at his back, studying the drape of the fabric around his body, the pattern of the collar, and how his hair curls at the base of his skull.

"But only a bomb to knock 'em out, right?"

For split second, she thinks that the words sound harsher than she meant them too, but she stops herself, realising she meant for them to sound harsh. There's anger, stirring in the pit of her stomach. Righteous anger that the one who was supposed to look out for her left her to fend for herself.  

He turns around, eyeing her carefully, as if the girl in front of him is suddenly unfamiliar to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Eggsy shrugs.

"Means you've been a shitty mentor for the past few months, and you’ve only just woken up from a coma before you turn around and leave again.

"Eggsy, this mission is hardly similar..."

"No?"

"No." His eyes harden as he meets her gaze, and his voice is firm enough that she feels a chill run down her spine.

He softens after a moment and steps towards her, raising a hand to carefully brush a strand of hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

“Eggsy…” he says hesitantly.

“This is the job. You’re right, I’ve been a terrible mentor, but this is what I do…it’s what _we_ do. If you can't accept that, then there's no point in-"

In one fluid motion she steps off the bed, raised herself on her toes and pulled him down into a kiss. He's as surprised as she is, she can feel how he stiffens at the sensation of her lips on his. For a moment he doesn't resist, but it doesn't take long before she feels his hands pushing her firmly away.

“This isn't about me." she spits, as the anger she feels evaporates and is replaced by embarrassment. 

"Eggsy," his voice sounds almost sad.

"This is very much about you. And for both our sakes, that can never happen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry calling Merlin 'Rupert' isn't a typo - I've decided to use Merlin's real name in the comics (Rupert Greaves) as his real name in this story, and it seems only right that Harry would not only know Merlin's real name, but also sometimes use it.


End file.
